What's the point of being Daredevil if you don't leap before you look?
by NaTak
Summary: Matt's fully aware he's making a big mistake accepting Foggy's invitation to spend Christmas at the Nelsons' new place. After everything he's put Foggy through, he knows this trip can't end in anything other than disaster. He goes anyways.
1. The airport's just a cab fare away

**A/N:** Originally published at AO3 as part of the 2018 Daredevil Secret Santa Exchange.

Many thanks to my beta, Amlia, without whom this fic wouldn't have been completed in time.

If you spot any mistakes, please be kind and let me know.

Enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter 1: The airport's just a cab fare away**

* * *

"Matt," Karen calls from the living room. "Your heater is broken – again!" She doesn't shout, she knows he doesn't need her to.

"Ah! So _that's_ why my butt is freezing," Foggy comments with good-natured sarcasm, voice equally leveled. A shift in the sofa cushions tells Matt that his friend has turned in his seat, most likely to glare at the offending broken appliance. "And here I was thinking I didn't pack enough woolen pantyhoses."

A soft breath of laughter. When Karen replies, Matt can hear the smile on her lips. It makes him grin too.

"I doubt it will be cold enough for you to need woolen clothing in Florida," she contradicts, stepping away from the heater and sitting against the sofa's back, just besides Foggy's shoulders. "And even if it is," Karen continues, and although she hasn't raised her voice, Matt knows she is addressing him, "I'm pretty sure they'll have _actually working_ calefaction there."

Matt can't help but chuckle from the bedroom, as he folds a silk shirt and slips it neatly into his bag.

It's a couple of days until Christmas. Matt usually doesn't partake in the holiday mood – a childhood filled with trauma and bitter loneliness didn't really help in that regard –, but after the year he's had, well, he can't help but feel thankful and joyful, specially in the company of his friends.

The silence stretches for a second too long, and Matt realizes they are waiting for an answer. "I'll have someone look it over when we come back," he concedes, being mindful to speak loud enough for them to hear in the next room.

"So there _is_ a limit to what your super senses can do," Foggy says mock-thoughtfully. "I was starting to wonder."

Before Matt has a chance to reply, Karen has already opened her mouth. "Putting the Kingpin in jail – not once, but twice? No sweat for the Devil of Hell's Kitchen." It warms Matt not to hear the edges that used to sharpen her voice when she mentioned his alias, back when he had first revealed himself to her. "But dealing with malfunctioning home appliances?" She jibes. "That's a line not even Daredevil will cross."

That surprises an honest laugh out of Matt.

"I feel you, man," Foggy says empathetically, bumping his fist theatrically in front of his chest, if the light thuds are any indication. "Back home, Marci's the one who deals with this stuff."

"Foggy!" Karen exclaims, slapping him softly on the shoulder. "What about sharing the housework?"

Matt closes his carry-on luggage and walks out of his room, prompting his friends to stand up and head for the door. Downstairs, the cab – already loaded with Karen and Foggy's things – waits in the snowy street. The driver hasn't killed the engine, likely to keep the car's heater on.

"I'll have you know," Foggy is saying, as he puts on his coat, "I do plenty of things for the household!"

"It's true," Matt confirms, adjusting his glasses and grabbing for his cane, as he pulls his luggage behind him. It's brand new. He hadn't had any need for a traveling bag before now. "Back in college, it was Foggy who kept us fed and in a mostly clean environment."

"That's because Matt can't cook to save his life," Foggy stage-whispers in Karen's ear, as she wraps a scarf around her neck. She covers her mouth with her gloved hands, but it does nothing to stifle her giggles.

"Objection," Matt protests, swinging his cane deliberately in Foggy's direction, causing him to nearly stumble. He grins at his friend's yelp. "This information is beyond the scope of the present conversation."

"Overruled," Foggy and Karen say at the same time, as Matt locks the door after the three of them have stepped outside.

They laugh.

It feels so simple, so right. The three of them together, joking around and just enjoying each other's company. Matt hadn't allowed himself to realize how much he had missed this in the months after Elektra and the whole fiasco of Midland Circle. It's almost like those first few blissful weeks at Nelson & Murdock.

Karen's face tilts downwards, at her watch, and she bites her lower lip in worry. "We should hurry. We left the taxi waiting long enough."

Matt hides a wince behind a cough. "Sorry guys. I shouldn't have left to pack in the last minute," he says apologetically as they descend the stairs. He had planned to pack the night before, but he heard a mugging taking place two blocks from his building. One thing led to another, and when Matt finally parkoured back home it was almost dawn.

Foggy patts him on the back in understanding. "Don't worry man. I'm just glad you agreed to come. My parents will be thrilled." He pauses for a moment, and if Matt's ears weren't so sensitive he wouldn't have picked up the slight strain in his friend's voice when he adds – trying for half-heartedly –, "everyone really missed you last year, you know."

A lump clogs Matt's throat, painfully reminding him that the easy camaraderie he used to share with Foggy will never be the same as it once was. They've hurt each other in places that will never truly heal.

Fortunately, he doesn't have to reply, because they've reached the cab and get busy trying to fit Matt's stuff in the almost completely full truck.

"To J.F.K., right?" The cabbie confirms, once they are all seated. Matt thinks the man eyes them wearily from the rear mirror, if the slight turning of his neck is any indication, though he can't always be sure about these kind of things.

The blind lawyer supposes they do make quite a sight, all squeezed in the back seat – because Matt refuses to allow any of them to touch the suspicious-smelling substance covering the passenger seat, Karen isn't in the mood to argue with him and Foggy is all up for some car cuddling, if it means warming up quicker.

As his friends are too busy bickering while trying to put on their safety belts, Matt – who got placed in the middle, because 'it's not like you'll be able to enjoy the view, buddy!' – is the one who has to answer in the affirmative.

"And here we go!" Foggy says cheerfully, as he finally manages to buckle in.

The car begins to gain speed, and Matt tries to get used to the disconcerting sensation of muffled sounds and smells that always accompany these rides. He knows how to filter out the rumbling of the motor and the scent of gas (the cabbie has just refueled, so the smell is particularly overwhelming), and soon enough he can focus on the dynamic impression of his city rushing past him.

As they pass a government building, Matt gets caught up listening to a heated discussion about the Sokovia Accords and almost misses Karen's next words.

"I still can't believe you convinced us to do this," she is telling Foggy. Her tone is outwardly playful, as it has been the whole morning, but the underlying tension in her voice speaks of second-doubts.

"Are you kidding me?" Foggy replies in mock-exasperation. "I spent years perfecting the art of bending others to my eloquent phrasing. Of course I'd be able to convince my best friends to spend Christmas with me at my parent's new place!" Matt senses Foggy's fists involuntarily closing where they sit on his lap, as if he's bracing himself for something. "Besides," he continues in a softer voice, turning to face Karen fully, "if I learned anything this year, it's that we're better together than apart. You are two of the most important people in my life, and that's what Christmas is all about, isn't it? Being with people you love. So. Yeah. I'm sorry, but you really didn't have a choice but to happily agree to come."

Karen's body relaxes considerably besides Matt, and when she laughs the sound is honest and contagious.

Matt feels the sudden urge to squeeze Foggy's hand or clap him on the shoulder in appreciation for his heart-warming words and his lighthearted way to go about delivering them.

In these moments, Matt wonders at Foggy's ability to read people. He can't listen to heartbeats, or smell sweating, or sense muscles flexing – but still he realized Karen's fears and was tactful to ease them without being completely obvious about it.

"I guess you're right," Karen admits, pulling a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's just." She swallows with some difficulty. "It's been a while since I really celebrated Christmas, you know? I never came back home after the accident. But even before that, we never had big parties. It was just the four of us, just like any other night – only, well," Karen chuckles a little, "with sweeter wine and more expensive meats."

Matt feels his heart constrict at her words. Reaching for her hand, he intertwines their fingers together briefly in support. He really appreciates Karen being more open about her past, even if it breaks his heart to know the horrible things she went through.

"No worries," Foggy is quick to reassure her. His tone is light, but by the skip of his heartbeat Matt knows his friend is just as affected as he is by Karen's admission. "You'll fit right in! Since my parents just moved to Tampa and are still getting their bearings in the new house, they decided not to throw a big Christmas party this year, so it will be just us, Theo, Candace and the kids."

"Candace is your older sister, right?" Karen asks. "We haven't really talked much the last few times I met your family."

"Yeah," Foggy confirms, "ever since she took over the hardware shop, she's always super busy with work. And even when she's not, she's got her hands full with three kids. A workaholic, that's what she is." He says it with a mixture of fondness and mild concern.

Matt frowns, just realizing something. "And what about Henry, isn't he coming?" He is surprised when both of his friends imperceptibly tense at the name and then share a look – if the simultaneous turn of heads is anything to go by. "What? Something wrong with him?" He immediately asks, not bothering to pretend he didn't notice their reactions. The cabbie is too preoccupied with the traffic as they draw nearer to the Toll road to realize the blind man on the back just reacted to something he wasn't supposed to see.

"You better not mention his name when Candace is in the room," Foggy says, a note of warning in his words. "They got divorced earlier this year, and let me tell you: it was messy business. The kind of stinking mess you usually just witness in crappy soap operas and the like."

Matt turns to face Foggy, tilting his head as he absorbs these news. Matt met Candace and Henry during his first year at college, when Foggy invited him to come home with him for the Christmas Holidays. They had seemed a well-matched pair then – both being quick-witted and affectionate, if somewhat hot-tempered and blunt –, and Matt continued to hold that impression on the following years, as they got married and started their family.

Matt hadn't known that thinking about Candace and her children – and realizing how long it's been since he truly spoke to any of them – would leave him feeling so wrong-footed.

"How come? They seemed fine the last time I met them," Matt unthinkingly comments, trying to steer his thoughts away from the cold realization that the kids might not want to have anything to do with him anymore, after he missed two years worth of birthdays and weekend outings. Matt knows it's the wrong thing to say the moment the words leave his mouth. Hot blood rushes through Foggy's body and his facial muscles tense in a frown.

Matt waits for the angry remark, and is honestly surprised when it doesn't come. Instead, warm air leaves Foggy's lungs in a slow exhale – a deliberate effort to calm himself. He is discreet about it too, Matt might not have noticed if he didn't know his friend as well as he does, or if he didn't have heightened senses. On his other side, Karen pretends to watch the traffic outside the window, though by the taste of copper from her bitten lip he knows she is paying close attention to their conversation.

"Yeah, man," Foggy finally says, and although he's tense, there's no open sharpness in his voice. "It's been, what? Two years since you visited? I mean, apart for that quick, impromptu celebration we had at the shop after we took down Fisk." He attempts a laugh, but if feels hollow when the accompanying heartbeat belies it. "A lot has changed," he shrugs.

Matt is put out by obvious way Foggy is trying to dismiss the situation. "You could have told me something was wrong before," he says, trying to hold back the bite of the words. When Foggy's nails dig into his palm in reflexive anger, Matt knows he hasn't been successful.

"Exactly _when_ was I supposed to say something, Matt?" Foggy demands loudly, apparently losing his patience, making the cabbie take a quick look in their direction. Foggy seems to realize they are being overheard, because he lowers his voice drastically as he continues. Another person wouldn't be able to hear it at even that close distance, due to the chaotic ambient noises of a city starting the day. "When our firm was falling apart and you weren't even there to witness it? When you were throwing yourself under an imploding building? Or right afterwards, when you let me believe you were dead for months?"

Foggy snaps his mouth shut, as if he had just blurted out a horrible curse in the middle of the church during mass.

Matt wants to say something, but his throat has closed up again, and no useful words come to mind besides empty apologies. He can only swallow down his frustrations and keep from snapping something hurtful back. Before he has a chance to recompose himself to say _anything_ , Foggy beats him to it.

"Damn. Didn't mean to spring all of that on you," he chuckles, trying to go for a normal tone of voice. He rubs at his forehead with unnecessary force, eyes closed. "All these preparations for Christmas left me really stressed. My nerves are fried." His heartbeat doesn't waver, nor does his voice. But the lingering tension in Foggy's neck betrays him.

Matt is too stunned by the sudden shift in demeanor to do anything other than gape.

"Anyways," Foggy continues, "the point is: do not say the H word in my sister's earshot, got it?"

There is little for Matt to do but to agree.

"Finally!" The cabbie exclaims, drawing attention to himself. "The traffic during the holidays is a real pain in the ass."

Karen laughs, a little too loudly, clearly using the opportunity to defuse some of the tension. "Yeah," she says. "It's in these moments that I miss living in a small town."

"I know, right," the man enthusiastically agrees, seemingly pleased to be able to express some of his frustration at the traffic. "I grew up in the countryside. Never knew what rush hour meant before I came to the city. I swear to you, if the job here didn't pay so well I'd pack my bags and never come back."

After that, Foggy and Karen get into a lively debate with their cabbie, regarding the pros and cons of living in New York.

Matt doesn't pay much attention to it, still caught up with Foggy's bitter accusations.

Soon, he's distracted even from that, as the world on fire as he knows it is swallowed by the endless echoes of the tunnel connecting Midtown Manhattan to Long Island City. Inside the Toll road, the reverberations of hundreds of cars against smooth tiles and hard asphalt hit Matt's senses with disorientating loudness. In a few short seconds, a headache begins to grow right behind his useless eyes, and he has a moment of sheer panic in which he feels as blind and as helpless as that first night at the hospital, after the chemical spill.

In his mind, Matt hears someone telling him to _get up_ and _get it done_. But inside this confusing trap of sounds and vibrations, he can't tell if it's his father's voice, or if it's Stick's. It doesn't really matter one way or the other. Taking deep breaths, Matt concentrates on centering himself until the spinning stops and the world returns into focus.

Matt doesn't realize he's gripping Foggy's hand tightly until they are almost on the other side of East River.

Shocked at himself, he makes to let go of his friend's hand, but Foggy holds on firmly. He's mid-sentence, arguing something related to the cultural diversity in the local community, to which Karen seems to fervently agree, if her emphatic nodding is any indication. Nothing in Foggy's demeanor indicates that he realizes something is amiss, except for his grounding grip around Matt's fingers.

Something in his expression must give Matt away, for Karen suddenly turns to him.

"Is everything alright, Matt?" She asks, sounding concerned.

As the car finally reaches the other side and the ringing in Matt's ears begin to subside, he once again questions his decision to accept Foggy's invitation.

Matt has never left New York – he's barely left Hell's Kitchen. Just crossing to Long Island left him with a dizzying headache. He doesn't know how he'll survive the three hour flight to Florida, nor the following days in a totally different city, with people he really cares about, but hasn't actually interacted with for about two years. He's trying to mend his relationship with Karen and Foggy, but if the past 15 minutes of conversation are anything to go by it's likely that that will only end in disaster too.

He's completely out of his depth.

"Matt?" Foggy gently prompts, and none of the previous anger colors his tone. A slight squeeze on Matt's hand silently reminds him that even when Foggy is angry or frustrated or hurt, he still cares.

Matt's lips quirk in a small smile. Sometimes he forgets Foggy's just as good at reading other people, as he is at reading Matt.

"Yeah," he says and – because he's trying to be more honest with them – amends, "I'm fine now."


	2. Aqui, we take care of each other

**Chapter 2: Aqui, we take care of each other**

* * *

After the eleven minute taxi ride from Tampa International Airport to the Nelson's, Foggy is immensely glad his parents decided _not_ to follow his advice and buy the expensive house at the Swann Estates anyways, instead of the cheaper if less conveniently-placed condo by MacDill Air Force Base. He is not sure Matt would have survived a second longer inside the moving vehicle.

"You okay there, buddy?" Foggy asks, turning from the passenger seat to glance at Matt, who's at the back, looking like he's a sharp turn away from throwing up. His face is pale, and he's been sweating ever since they left the ground at J.F.K., about four hours before. Even if it's about 68ºF warmer here in Florida, it really doesn't really account for his sweating, seeing as he has taken off his jacket.

"Gotta admit man, I've seen better days," Matt replies with a pained smile. Every few seconds he will slightly turn his head in a different direction, he's been doing that a lot since they got off the plane.

Ever since Foggy discovered his friend's 'abilities', he is getting used to Matt's particular tilts-of-head and the out-of-place-expressions he sometimes makes when listening to something too far away for Foggy to catch, but these strained grimaces and unease twitching do not seem like normal behavior – not even Matt-normal behavior.

"Now I'm worried," Foggy tries to joke, while sharing a concerned look with Karen. "You, Matt-Always-the-Stoic-One-Murdock, just admitted to not being fine. You must be dying or something."

Matt tries to smile, but it comes out more like a grimace.

"I think we are here," Karen says, pointing outside her window, and she sounds as relieved as Foggy himself feels.

As he steps out the the cab, Foggy takes in the house he had only seen in real estate pictures before. It's a nice place. With a well-maintained front yard, the traditional two-story house seems more spacious than any apartment or shop the Nelsons have ever owned before put together. Someone – most likely his dad – placed missmatching Christmas decorations all around the porch, giving the otherwise bland place some personality.

It's the kind of house he knows his mother had always dreamed about having when he was growing up, but could never have afforded, certainly not in New York.

For a moment, Foggy wonders how it would have been to grow up in a place when everyone had their bedroom — possibly with their inbuilt bathroom; with a dining room separated from both the kitchen and the living room, where everyone could sit a good distance from each other, and not get into one another's space everytime someone wanted to refill their glass of juice.

He can't imagine it.

Karen clears her throat loudly, breaking Foggy from his reverie. "A little help here?" She prompts, as she and the cabbie pull their things from the truck.

When Matt finally manages to climb out of the car, he tries to offer to help, but they brush him off.

"And now, the moment of truth!" Foggy jokes a little nervously, as the three friends stand side by side at the entrance door. He prepares to ring the bell.

"Wait!" Karen stops him.

Foggy turns wide eyes at her. "Uh. Karen, if you're having second-doubts, I think it's a little too late for you to go back now..."

"No, no," she interrupts, shaking her head and reaching out to place her hand comfortingly on Matt's shoulder. "It's just that we didn't have a moment in private to ask how you are doing – really. I mean, I know flying is not a pleasant experience for me, and I don't have super senses. So can't begin to imagine how it must feel for you, Matt."

Matt's hold on his cane visibly tightens and he shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

"Nah-ah, don't even think about lying, Murdock," Foggy interjects, before his friend has a chance to downplay whatever is up with him.

Not even Matt's dark-tinted glasses can hide the way his eyebrows rise up in surprise at Foggy's words.

"Come on, buddy," Foggy says with a smile, bumping him lightly on the arm. "We don't need to smell the saliva in your mouth, or whatever it is that you do, to be able to tell that you are almost passing out on us."

That manages to get a laugh out of Matt's grim face.

"It was the pressure, I think," Matt finally admits, a self-deprecating smiling twisting his lips in a way that makes Foggy want to shake it away. "It messed with my ears and now I'm having trouble readjusting. My hearing is all over the place. But it's getting better now that I'm on steady ground again. I should be back to normal in a couple of hours," he is quick to reassure them. "It's nothing to worry about, guys. Really."

Karen glances back at Foggy, and the pair of them share a 'can you believe this guy?' sort of look.

"We just rolled our eyes at your overly stoic attitude, buddy," Foggy helpfully informs, maneuvering Matt's hand to the crook of his elbow – just like old times.

"You know it's okay to ask for help," Karen adds, interlacing her arm with Matt's from his other side. "You don't have to bear it alone."

Matt lets out a strangled chuckle, twisting his head away from both of them. "Thanks," he stammers. "I know. You–" He cuts himself short, tilting his head to the side in a familiar way.

"What did you hear?" Foggy asks, looking around. "Please tell me aliens didn't pick Tampa as the next ground-zero for an invasion. My folks didn't have insurance to cover it the first time, and I doubt they have it now," he says, only half-joking.

Suddenly, the front door bursts open, causing Foggy and Karen to jump in surprise. Matt, that little piece of shit, doesn't even try to hide the smirk at his friends reactions.

"Uncle Foggy!" Ruthie, his hyperactive, 8-year-old niece cries out, rushing forwards to hug him.

From behind her, Oli, 10-year-old ginger, steps out, frowning slightly. "What are you doing standing out here in the porch? Weren't you going to knock?"

"Of course!" Foggy exclaims, tousling his youngest niece's hair affectionately, before turning to hug the oldest. "We were just playing rock-paper-scissors to decide who would get to ring the bell."

Olivia eyes them weirdly, but Ruth nods along, finding the answer completely reasonable.

"Aren't you going to say hello to my friends, girls?" Foggy prompts, indicating Matt and Karen, who awkwardly hover at the side.

Ruthie's eyes widen comically, as she takes in Matt's form. "Matt!" She exclaims, and that's the only warning before she's throwing her arms around his waist. Well, only warning to people with normal senses. Matt had probably smelled the sneaky attack coming.

"Ruthie, is that you?" He asks, pretending to be surprised. "Look at how much you've grown! I almost didn't recognize you," Matt says, making an effort to sound impressed, which infinitely pleases the girl.

Grinning from ear to ear, Ruth turns her head up, giggling. "Matt! Will you play Marco-Polo with me later? I had Uncle Theo play it with me last year, but he didn't have a cane, so he kept stumbling over furniture and falling to the ground."

Under his breath, Foggy mutters between stifled snorts, "he could have his eyes open and he still would have fallen on his ass, so drunk he was."

Matt's smile widens, and Foggy knows he heard him.

"I'd love to play with you," Matt says solemnly, though he doesn't manage to suppress the smirk completely. "And maybe we can even invite Karen to play as well. I bet she's pretty good at it."

Ruthie's head snaps around. "Oh, hi Karen, it's nice to see you," she mumbles somewhat timidly, still holding on to Matt's hand. She's still very shy around Karen, but Foggy's sure her reticence won't last long.

"It's really nice to see you too, Ruthie," Karen replies, smiling down at the girl. Then she inclines her body to whisper something into her ear, causing the child to start giggling again. Yep, now it's more likely.

"Hi Karen!" Olivia steps forwards, probably annoyed her younger sister is getting all the attention.

Karen turns to look at the pre-teen. "Hello, Oli! Wow! I love your jacket, it's beautiful shade of green. I goes really well with your hair," she compliments, making the girl blush.

"Hey there, Oli," Matt says, waving in her general direction. "I can't really say much about the jacket, but the bracelets you're wearing definitely make a really cool clinking noise."

Foggy hadn't even noticed it before Matt pointed it out, but sure enough, the girl does have colorful metal trinkets around her wrists that make jingling sounds when she moves her arms.

"T-thanks, Matt," Olivia stutters, reddening furiously. Foggy always thought it cute – and funny – how his niece perpetually crushes on Matt. It's even funnier now that Foggy is absolutely sure his friend can sense/feel/know/whatever it is that he does how the girl is blushing.

As if reading his thoughts, Colin, the 7-year-old mischievous boy comes running down the hall, sing-songing: "Olivia is in love with Matt, Olivia is in love with Matt!"

"I'm not!" Oli shouts back, livid, before running after him.

"Wait for me!" Ruthie exclaims, following her siblings back inside the house.

The three friends share a moment of silence, before laughing.

"Is it always like this?" Karen asks, sounding mostly amused, and just a little bit tired. In moments like these, Foggy is reminded just how resilient his friend really is.

"Just be thankful the second-degree cousins won't be making an appearance this year," Matt says.

"Damn. The second-degree cousins," Foggy runs a hand through his hair, feeling the ghost of the headache that plagued him during that particular Christmas. "That is an experience I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy."

Matt opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. Unexpectedly, he flinches with a grimace, as if he has just tasted something disgustingly bitter.

"Is it the aliens this time?" Foggy jokes, but reaches out to hold on to Matt's elbow just in case.

Shaking his head as if to clear his mind, Matt doesn't even try to pretend everything is alright.

"Aircraft just took off," he explains offhandedly.

"Dude," Foggy begins, impressed despite himself, "you know that's insane, right? We are like, five miles from the airport."

"...from the air force base," Matt clarifies, and if he wasn't so sickly pale, he would have looked sheepish.

Karen whistles, surprised but apparently not as blown-away as Foggy.

"What the actual fuck, man," he can't help but blurt out. "This is like, Avengers-level bullshit."

Matt shrugs but doesn't reply otherwise.

Turning his attention to the entrance hall, Foggy peers inside to check if anyone's coming to receive them.

"I guess we should just barge in, guys," he decides, guiding the others inside.

"Franklin! What took you so long?" A voice calls from behind them, just as Foggy is closing the door. He turns to find his mom in an apron, covered in flour.

"Looking good, Mom," he says instead of replying, accepting her kiss on the cheek.

She snaps a kitchen towel at him, causing him to inhale some of the flour.

"Good lord woman! Are you trying to choke him before he hands in the goods?" Foggy hears his sister saying, as he coughs uncontrollably.

"Lovely to see you too, Candy," he manages to choke out. Through the tears burning the corners of his eyes, Foggy gets a flash of his sister's dark auburn hair, before she envelops him in a tight hug.

As he tries to get the worst of the mess off his face, his Mom, Candace, Karen and Matt exchange amicable greetings and small-talk, with his family asking about the flight from NYC and his friends inquiring after the move to the new house. Apparently Theo had arrived yesterday, and Candace and the kids a day before that.

"Don't get me wrong," his mom is telling Matt, as Candace shows Karen the way to the restroom, "I do miss waking up to a city covered in white, but it's wonderful not have to deal with the slimy mess snow leaves in its wake."

Matt is nodding politely, seemingly interested in what she is saying, but it's clear to Foggy that his friend is exhausted.

"Mom," he bluntly insinuates himself in the conversation – subtlety isn't really the Nelsons' style. "I'm sure Matt would love to hear all the reasons Florida is better than New York, but right now we're absolutely dead on our feet."

"Of course, you're right, Franklin," she immediately agrees. Making to climb the stairs to the second floor, she gestures for them to accompany her. "Follow me, dears," she adds a moment later, before Foggy even has the chance to narrate. After years hosting Matt during holidays and such, Foggy's family got used to making some accommodations, such as not relying on non-verbal cues around him. Foggy now knows it doesn't really matter to Matt, but it's nice to see how welcoming his family is. He hopes Matt realizes it too.

"Stairs are two feet to your right," he quietly says, both out of habit and because Foggy isn't sure his friend doesn't actually need the extra help, considering how his senses have been acting up.

Grabbing his suitcase with his left hand, Matt tucks his cane away, opting to make use of Foggy's guiding to lead him.

"Thanks, man," Matt says softly. Foggy doesn't have super hearing, but he definitely catches on to the deeper meaning of that expression of gratitude.

"Always, buddy."

* * *

"And here comes the big-shot lawyer!" Theo cat-calls as Foggy enters the living room, where most of his family, together with Karen, are gathered. "Took you long enough, bro."

"Yeah, yeah," Foggy brushes his brother off and grabs a seat by one of the armchairs.

"How's Matt doing?" Karen asks discreetly, as she passes him a drink.

Foggy takes a sip, pleased at the sweet mixture of chocolate and cinnamon. "He says he's feeling better. But it's Matt, so you can never be sure."

It's been a couple of hours since they arrived. After taking a short tour around the house and saying hello to everyone, Foggy's mom had shown them to their rooms. Seeing as the house only had three spare bedrooms, Karen and Candace were to share the smallest one, while Matt, Foggy and Theo would stay in the biggest and the kids would sleep in the remaining room. Theo hadn't been happy with the arrangement – 'you remember why we call you Foggy, right? It certainly isn't because of your opaque, mysterious nature. I can't sleep with you snoring the whole night'. So his younger brother had voluntarily moved himself to the sofa downstairs, leaving Matt and Foggy as the sole occupants of that bedroom, just like college times.

At Foggy's insistence, Matt consented to rest for an hour or two. Not wanting his friend to feel uncomfortable about it, Foggy decided to lie down for a bit too, before coming downstairs to interact with everyone. When he left, Matt appeared to be doing some sort of meditation, and Foggy felt it was better to leave him to his own devices. He would come down when he was ready.

His parents, as well as his siblings and Karen are seated around the coffee table, spread out on the sofas and chairs. The room is mostly put together, but Foggy easily spots a couple of unopened card boxes hidden in a corner. All around the house, remnants of the move can be found, be it either in unopened boxes, mismatching furniture or improvised sleeping arrangements.

From the kitchen, Foggy hears joyous laughter.

"The kids wanted to decorate gingerbread cookies," his father answers the unspoken question.

Foggy makes a face. "And you left them to it, unsupervised?"

From across the room, Candace throws a Christmas ornament at his head. "I'll have you know that your nieces and nephew are growing up to be quite the chefs!"

Theo snorts and picks up the fallen red ball, throwing it back at their sister. "Please tell me you are not planning on enrolling them on that stupid cooking show."

"MasterChef Junior is a respectable program," his mom argues back, puffing her chest a little. "Those kids are really talented." When it looks like Candace will pick another ornament from the Christmas tree to throw at Theo, their mother raises her finger threateningly at her. "Don't you dare, young lady!"

Foggy rolls his eyes at his family antics. One would think they are not responsible adults, with business or children to take care of. Besides him, Karen is giggling silently, and Foggy feels immensely glad at how relaxed and comfortable she looks sprawled on the sofa at his mother's side, wearing soft, casual clothing. That's exactly what he wanted when he decided to invite her and Matt to come here with him.

Well, that, and also make sure Matt wouldn't get himself killed while Foggy was out of town. He is perfectly aware that Matt is still going out at night back home, even when the temperatures are below zero and slippery ice covers the rooftops his friend is so fond of jumping on. But Foggy also knows that no matter how insane his friend is, even _he_ would be hard-pressed to put on his shady-black-ninja outfit and go out to punch criminals in the streets of freaking suburban Tampa.

Foggy has learned the hard way that being confrontational with Matt regarding his night-time activities wasn't in any way productive, so he has been working to come up with a new approach – one that kept his friend alive (and hopefully out of jail) and at the same time quenched his vigilante-y thirst for justice.

Still, even though Foggy is relieved he won't have to worry about Matt dying in a gutter somewhere, after being stabbed on the chest and freezing to death buried in dirty snow, he does feel somewhat guilty for pushing his friend like that. He has always know that Matt's reluctance to take off from New York has as much to do with loving the city and everything it represents, as it has with being skittish about leaving the place he can so easily navigate in. And after witnessing just how messed up he got at the plane, Foggy more than empathises with his unwillingness to travel.

Foggy has zoned out of the conversation taking place in the room, but the mentioning of Matt's name pulls his attention.

"So, is Matt coming down to socialize or is he going to stay hopped in the room for the rest of the holidays?" Candace asks in Foggy and Karen's direction during a lull in the conversation.

"Uh, no," Karen is quick to answer. "He gets really motion sick in airplanes, so he's probably sleeping it off."

"Yeah, he'll show up when he smells dinner," Foggy adds, lightheartedly.

"Poor boy," his mom comments, shaking her head. "He's always been rather sensitive, isn't he? Remember his first New Year with us? I don't know who was more anxious when the fireworks started, him or the dogs."

Theo snorts. "Man, that was nothing compared to the Thanksgiving we spent at Aunt Jeannie's. Remember his face when Uncle Timmy puked all over dessert? Priceless!"

His dad tuts disapprovingly. "You joke now, but if I recall correctly, it was Matt who saved the infamous 2010 Easter lunch. If not for his nose, Sharon's kitchen would have burned down."

All the Nelsons have to concede a point at that.

Karen eyes them curiously. "I had no idea you've known Matt for so long," she comments, prompting them to tell her more on the subject. A journalist will always chase a good story, Foggy supposes.

"Oh, yes," his mom nods, always eager to share. "Matt's been with us ever since he and Franklin met at college some, what? 14 years ago."

Candace laughs. "The way you say it, it sounds like Matt's a lost puppy that Foggy brought home and we adopted."

"I mean, you're not wrong," Theo speaks up, shrugging with one shoulder. "You know Matt's got no family of his own, and him and Foggy have always been joined at the hip ever since college. It kind of makes sense that he would become part of the family."

Foggy wonders how they will react when they learn that Matt found the only remaining member of his birth family – and she turned out to be a nun.

Karen smiles at them. "That's really sweet of you," she quietly says. "Matt really needs people like you in his life." Foggy doesn't think he's imagining the telling shine in her eyes that speaks of unshed tears.

His mom smiles back at Karen. "You're always welcomed here too, dear," she says, reaching out to pat the younger woman on the hand. "Any of Franklin's friends will always have a place with the Nelsons."

Karen's grin widens, and she looks down, cheeks flushing. "Thank you, Mrs. Nelson."

She waves a hand dismissively at her. "None of this 'mrs' business. Call me Anna, dear."

Karen reddens a shade darker, and she stutters out in agreement.

"And anyway!" Foggy says, calling attention to himself to give Karen a chance to recompose herself. "When you say that _any_ of my friends will be welcome here, you know that includes Marci, right Mom?"

Predictably, the older woman huffs in exasperation. "I know you tell us that girl is taking good care of you, Franklin. But I still remember the way she turned down your affections to go chase that rich doctor."

Behind their mom's back, Theo mouths out 'turned down your affections', with quotations marks and everything, causing Foggy, Karen and Candace to strain to stifle their laughter.

"You know," his sister begins, making the others turn to her, "I always kind of shipped you and Matt harder than I do you and Marci, little bro."

Everyone laughs, and Foggy splutters to respond, though he's grinning to when he does. "I'll have you know that the friendship between Matt and I is the most manly, no-homo thing you can find between two manly men."

"Keep telling yourself that, pal," Theo snorts, slapping him on the shoulder on his way to the bathroom. "Let's see if Karen will agree when I show her the picture of the pair of you cuddling back in 2008," he shoots over his shoulder, as he walks away.

"Not fair!" Foggy retorts. "We were kept up the whole night by Colin's crying. Of course we'd fall asleep anywhere after that!"

"We had a bet going, last year," Candace leans forward in her seat to confide in Foggy. "Theo as going to tell Dad's conservative relatives that you and Matt had come out as a couple. We wanted to see how many of them would believe it."

His dad tsks in their direction. "That's not a thing to joke about, kids."

On the opposite side of the living room, his mom rolls her eyes at her husband. "That's because your sister is a bigot, dear."

"But anyways," Candace interrupts before their parents can start arguing, "Matt didn't show, so we thought it best to leave it alone." She tries to say it nonchalantly, but Foggy's aware what she really means is that they weren't sure Matt and Foggy were even friends at that point, and they didn't want to bring him up and risk hurting their brother's feelings.

The Nelsons are blunt to a fault, but they also know to be tactful, when the situation calls for it.

An uncomfortable silence grows between them. Foggy knows his family doesn't really understand what happened between the once inseparable friends. And how could they? But he hopes they won't bring it up with Matt. He can't imagine that particular conversation going well.

"So," Karen cuts in, "should we check to see if there are any cookies left?"

Everyone promptly agrees, and as they get up, Foggy shoots her grateful glance.

 _That's what friends are for_ , she wordlessly smiles back.


	3. Don't let a story work you

**Chapter 3: It's another thing to let a story work you**

* * *

Karen doesn't remember the last time she had enjoyed herself so much during the holidays.

As she watches Foggy and his siblings bicker over who gets stuck with doing the dishes, Karen can't help but think of her brother and how they used to have similar discussions as children. The familiar pang in her heart that always hits her when her thoughts fly to Kevin is accompanied by warm nostalgia about the good memories she has of him. It's a nice change.

Ever since she came clean about her past to Foggy and Matt, she's been able to talk more openly to them, and Karen thinks that's really helping her move forwards and deal with all the trauma she's been through.

From somewhere on the second floor, Karen hears giggling. She wonders if it was a good idea to send the grandparents to put the children to sleep.

Her eyes wander to her left and stop at Matt, who's sitting at the kitchen table across from her, teasing Foggy, who has just managed to avoid dishes duty, but got stuck with drying instead. Foggy stands with his back to them, balancing cutlery between Theo, the unfortunate soul who lost rock-paper-scissors and is now elbows deep in soapy water, and Candace, the winner who now gets to put away the dry utensils.

Karen and Matt had offered to help, but Foggy steered them to sit in the kitchen chairs – 'what kind of host would I be if I made you do all the washing?'

Matt's at ease. Karen thinks that if it were just the three of them, he would have taken his glasses off. Still, he's relaxed in a way she hadn't expected him to be. He's usually distant – if extremely polite and charming – with most people.

Karen always found the dynamic between her ex-bosses very interesting. Early on she realized they were much more than business partners: they were close friends. Now, getting to know Foggy's family better, she's starting to realize just how significant Nelson & Murdock's rupture really was.

More than that, from what Karen has been able to put together, being stranded from Foggy also meant that Matt lost access to very important people in his life, leaving him more isolated than Karen had realized at first.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Matt quietly asks, pulling Karen back to the present. His face is turned in her direction. With the dark glasses on, it's almost like he's looking her in the eyes. His expression is light and amused, mildly curious. He seems well-rested and alert.

After resting for a few hours, when Matt finally came down for dinner he looked much healthier and steadier on his feet. The meal went smoothly, with the Nelsons quickly getting used to having Matt back in their midst. There was much family gossip Matt had to be updated on, so he and Karen spent most of the dinner listening to amusing stories.

"Just thinking how glad I'm that we decided to accept Foggy's invitation," she replies, wondering what Matt had felt from her to cause him to ask such a question. "This so much better than being stuck at home watching crap telly and eating microwaved, store-bought food."

Matt chuckles, nodding his assent. "Definitely." He pauses for a moment, as if trying to decide whether to disclose something or not. "Especially now that my 'motion sickness' has passed," he says, raising his eyebrows meaningfully.

Karen startles. "You were listening to that?" She whispers in his direction, glancing up to see if the others heard anything.

Matt looks embarrassed when he answers. "Couldn't help it, sorry."

"Well, I had to say something to them," she defends herself. "I think Candace was starting to think you were avoiding her."

Matt makes to reach out to her hand over the table, and Karen meets him half-way through, so as not to look suspicious if anyone happened to be looking at them.

"No, no," he's quick to reassure her. "I don't mean it that way. Thank you for covering for me with them."

Karen squeezes his hand. "No worries. I did get to hear some pretty interesting stories about what you and Foggy got yourselves up to back at college. So it was worth it," she says teasingly.

Matt laughs. The sound is open and warm, and Karen can barely believe that this is the same man who broke into her apartment a few months before, beaten and bitter.

"Out, out with you all!" Anna Nelson says, bursting into the kitchen.

Karen and Matt quickly jump to their feet and make to leave.

"Oh, not you two, dears," she patts Karen reassuringly on the back, voice going softer. "I meant my three children, who seem to spend more time bickering than tidying up properly!" Anna exclaims, voice going louder as she addresses the trio.

Foggy, Theo and Candace share a 'here we go again' sort of look, and hurry up to finish their respective duties.

"I'll get a head start on tomorrow's dinner," the older woman explains to Karen, indicating the defrosting cut of beef waiting on the counter. "God knows that it'll be impossible to finish everything up in time to go to mass otherwise!"

Karen nods along as if agreeing, even though she herself has little experience with preparing special Christmas dinners – or going to masses, for that matter – so the logistics of the whole ordeal are lost to her.

Across from her, Matt's frowning. "There is no need for you to accompany me to mass, Anna," he says. "I know you usually don't attend. I'm fine with going on my own."

Anna waves her hand in a dismissive gesture. "Nonsense! You came all the way here to celebrate with us. It's the least we can do. Besides," she leans forwards to stage whisper in Matt's ear, "I'm pretty sure my late mother would be very happy to see me returning to church after so many years."

"Wrong kind of church, dear," Edward Nelson cuts in, stepping out of the hallway and into the kitchen, carrying with him three empty mugs. "You know that just because they all have crosses on the wall it doesn't mean it's one and the same thing."

Karen can't help but chuckle, together with the Nelson siblings by the sink. Matt visibly tries to soften his smirk, but it doesn't really work.

Flaying a bit, Anna steals a kitchen towel from Foggy's hands and uses it to hit her husband playfully on the chest.

Edward easily avoids the worst of the hits, passing the dirty mugs to Theo to wash.

"Heretic comments notwithstanding," the graying man presses on, grabbing the blind man by the shoulder and squeezing gently, "Anna's right. It will be a pleasure to take you, Matt. We know how important your faith is to you."

"There is a Roman Catholic Church a few blocks away," Anna adds, belying her early ignorance. "Candace will stay behind to put the kids to sleep, but whoever wants to accompany us is welcomed to come along."

Matt opens his mouth again, and by the way his knuckles whiten as he holds onto his cane a little too tightly Karen is certain he's going to protest.

"Sure, I'd love to go," she interjects, before he has a chance to refuse their offer. Karen can't really say she's had good experiences with churches so far in her life. The last times she attended one was either to witness a priest get killed right in front of her, or to pay her respects to dead people. She'd like to change that, and coming to Midnight Mass seems like a good way to do that.

"Count me in, buddy!" Foggy adds, finishing up with the mugs and passing them on to his sister.

"If you don't mind me missing all the cues to stand up and sit down, I'm all for it," Theo tells Matt, surprising Karen a bit. She hadn't pegged him as someone who'd offer to do that sort of thing.

Matt laughs, and he looks comfortable again. "You basically do whatever the person next to you is doing," he says. "You cannot go wrong."

"Unless you're sitting by the Nelsons," Candace comments, smirking at them. "Then you're screwed."

"Oh, but you're forgetting something very important," Foggy jumps in to correct her. "If the Nelsons are in a church, they surely have a Matt Murdock with them. He'll keep us in line."

Karen has to bite back the 'awww' that threatens to escape her lips. Matt is flushed enough as it is.

* * *

After helping Anna in the kitchen, Karen follows the others upstairs. The door to Foggy and Matt's room is already closed, so she crosses the hallway as quietly as she can – though if Matt's still awake he will hear her anyways.

Inside her room, she sees that the light is on and the door to the built-it bathroom is closed. Karen quickly changes into her sleeping clothes and waits for Candace to finish up in the bathroom. Once it's her turn, she efficiently washes her face and brushes her teeth. As she washes her hands after using the toilet, Karen hears voices coming from the bedroom.

She opens the door to find Candace sitting cross-legged on her bed, glaring daggers at her mother, who stands by the closed window.

"It's a little sketchy, that's all I'm saying. What kind of person disappears like that?" The playfulness that colored Candace's tone earlier that evening is gone. A skeptical, serious woman has taken her place.

Anna's frown is hard and angular. All the softness of the old lady has turned into sharp edges. "Do you hear yourself? It's Matt we're talking about. We've known him since he was barely more than a kid. We know he's a good boy. He's just had a difficult life, that's all."

Candace huffs. "Him being an orphan has nothing to do with this," she points out, then, as she realizes Karen is watching them, clears her throat. "Ah, sorry Karen. Didn't hear the door opening."

Karen doesn't even try to pretend she didn't overhear what they were saying. "You were talking about Matt's disappearance, right?"

The two women share a silent look, something passing between them.

"I'm sorry Karen," Candace finally says, ignoring the warning looks her mother is sending her. "I know Matt's your friend. But you have to agree that it all sounds a little suspicious. Around May Foggy tells us Matt had 'gone missing', no further explanations, and a few months later, he announces Matt had come back and expected we to just be okay with it. It doesn't add up."

It really doesn't, Karen mutely agrees, running a hand through her hair, trying to come up with an explanation to that. She thought she was done covering for Matt for the night. Apparently not.

"Everything alright, here?" Edward suddenly asks, appearing at the door.

Jumping, Anna's hand goes to her throat. "Christ Ed, you scared me."

"We were just talking about Matt," Candace clarifies, eyeing Karen curiously.

"What about him?" He asks, sounding puzzled.

Before they have a chance to answer, loud steps can be heard approaching from the corridor. A confused Theo frowns when he encounters the group of pajamas-clad people in the small room.

"I came to get an extra pillow. The couch is hard," he comments in lieu of explanation. "Are you having some sort of secret meeting and didn't invite me?" The young man demands, and Karen can't for the life of her tell if he's joking or not.

Feeling distinctly uncomfortable, Karen avoids eye-contact and wonders if Matt is listening to this awkward conversation. The thought that he is only makes her distinctively more uncomfortable.

"I guess we are now," Candace mutters, before turning to face Karen again. "Alright, you know something," she decides. "Spill."

"What is it that she knows?" Edward insists, sounding worried now.

"It's about what happened to Matt when he was missing," Anna explains, sounding tired. "Candy has all these wild theories about what he was doing during that time."

"You mean you don't know?" Theo asks, eyes widening in surprise at them. "Shit. I thought everyone knew by now."

Cold dread pools at the bottom of Karen's stomach. Does Theo know Matt's Daredevil? How could he know? Does Foggy even know Theo knows?

Shooting a glance at the others, Karen realizes she's not the only one who's nervous. Anna is biting her lip anxiously.

"Knew _what_?" Candace presses, leaning forwards in her bed.

"I mean," Theo continues as if his sister hasn't spoken, "they're both awful at keeping secrets. Foggy tried to feed us the whole disappearance story, but he couldn't talk about it with a straight face. And after Matt came back, just after the shit with Fisk? Well, in that moment I was absolutely certain."

"About _what_ , Theodore?" Edward urges.

"Just say it already!" Candace snaps.

Karen's heart is beating so loud and fast in her ears that she doesn't know how Matt isn't bursting into the room to check if she's having a heart attack. She almost doesn't catch on to Theo's words.

"Well, that Matt was working for the government," he says, perfectly calm. "It's the only thing that makes sense."

Karen's knees go weak with relief, and it's miracle she doesn't fall to the ground.

"For the government?" Candace asks, doubtful. "Doing what?"

Theo shrugs. "Your guess is as good as mine. But I'd say it has something to do with international espionage. You ever noticed how worked up he gets whenever Sokovia is mentioned? I think he found something there to do with Fisk, and used it against him after the fucker tricked the FBI into letting him go."

"Matt, a spy?" The older sister is incredulous, and Karen empathises greatly with her. "But he's blind!"

Theo shrugs again. "People underestimate him because of it," he reasons. "They don't see him coming, get it?"

Candace looks dubious, and Anna just looks tired, but Edward has a contemplative air around him.

"I thought Matt was in a witness protection program," he confesses. "I figured he had dirt on someone, and was being targeted for it. Then he came back, right after Fisk went down the second time, because whoever was coming after him had been caught."

When put like that, Karen thinks, that does sound reasonable.

"What did _you_ think he was up to?" Theo shoots to his sister, raising an eyebrow.

Candace flushes, and for a moment it looks like she won't respond.

"I thought he had eloped," she admits at last, looking away. "I mean, Foggy seemed so heartbroken about it, but at the same time he refused to fill a missing person report. I thought Matt had gotten together with that old girlfriend and his and left town."

Karen grimaces at the thought that something like that could have happened, if only things had played out differently a year before.

The other Nelsons are staring at Candace with expressions varying from vague amusement to total incredulity.

"For Christ's sake. Why would Foggy lie about that?" Theo asks, exasperated. And before she has a chance to answer, he adds: "You know your theory that Foggy's secretly in love with Matt is just you projecting, right?"

Theo gets a pillow thrown in his face for that.

"He would lie, Theo," Candace says slowly, still a few shades redder than what Karen supposes is healthy, "because that girl is sketchy as hell. I don't doubt she has all sorts of conexions with criminal organizations. I thought that maybe she got Matt mixed with all of that, and Foggy had to cut ties or risk getting involved too."

Well, when put that way… Karen's thoughts trail off.

Anna sighs, making all eyes turn to her.

"I promised Foggy I wouldn't tell you," she begins, quietly. "But I think it's best that you know the truth, instead of making up these nonsensical conspiracy theories." Anna pauses, and her gaze flickers to Karen. "I think you know what I'm about to reveal to them, dear," the older woman tells her.

Karen doesn't know how to react, nor what to expect. The night so far has been filled with surprises. So she just gives the woman a minuscule nod that could mean anything.

Anna exhales slowly, as if steeling herself. "Matt had to be sent to a drug rehabilitation clinic," she discloses, looking guilty as she does so. "He had been having problems with drinking for some time – that's the reason their firm shut down. He started doing heavy drugs, and things spun out of control after that. He overdosed. Foggy tells me he truly believed for a while that Matt would never come back from the coma. But eventually he did and began treatment. Now he seems to be doing better."

The Nelsons stare in stunned silence at her.

Karem reflects that even lacking crucial facts in the story, still they managed to paint a reasonably accurate picture of what has been going on with Matt these past years.

"Matt, a recovering drug addict?" Candace finally asks. She sounds as skeptical, as when Theo had shared his theory that Matt was a spy. "No freaking way. I'm sticking with my eloping hypothesis. It's way less depressing."

"Yeah, sorry Mom. Espionage sounds much better," Theo decides, twisting around to go back to where he came from, carrying the pillow his sister had thrown at him. "Night, guys."

Pursing her lips in annoyance, Anna turns to face her husband. "Are you going to say you prefer to believe in your ridiculous theory, too?" She demands, almost like a dare.

Edward, smart man that he is, gently wraps an arm around his wife's waist, directing her out of the room. "Not at all, dear," he replies. "But we should let the girls get some sleep now." He pauses by the door, to flick the lights out. "Goodnight, girls."

In the dark, Karen can finally let her shoulders sag in relief, exhaustion, and reluctant amusement.


	4. Not everyone deserves a happy ending

**Chapter 4: Not everyone deserves a happy ending**

* * *

Matt wakes up early, but not nearly as early as he imagined he would. He thought sleeping in a bed not that is not his, in a house with eight unique heartbeats besides his own, in a city miles away from his home, would have kept him up into the wee hours of dawn. But that was not the case.

He supposes sleeping in the same room as Foggy might have had something to do with it. He has gotten so used to his friend after years of sharing sleeping space that the sound of his breathing – and even of his snores – is now familiar and soothing, and helped lull Matt into slumber.

But of course, not before Matt overheard the embarrassing conversation happening down the hall, between Karen and the Nelsons.

It's not that Matt isn't glad that none of them have managed to figure it out. The more people who know the truth about Daredevil, the more people are put in danger because of it. But at the same time, Matt hates how Foggy's family has to come up with elaborated explanations for their estrangement. How Foggy and Karen now have to lie to protect him.

Matt knows that the story about addiction that Foggy fed to Anna and a few other select people who were looking a little too closely into Matt's disappearance – for exemple, Detective Brett Mahoney – was a necessary evil. However, it still leaves a sour taste in the back of his mouth.

It's humiliating to imagine what these friends now think of him. 'Poor Matt Murdock. Orphan blind lawyer who had a promising career ahead of him, only to throw it all away in exchange for the bottom of a bottle and to run away from his problems by getting high. What would his late father think of him now? Such a disappointment.'

As Matt finishes his morning shower and gets ready for the day, he tries to find solace in the fact that at least they don't know that besides being an addict – though not to the drug they pegg him for – he's also a suicidal vigilante with super senses who puts on costumes to go out at night and take his anger out on street-level criminals.

When he leaves the room, Foggy's still sleeping soundly, drooling a bit on his pillow, by the smell of it. Quietly, as not to disturb him, Matt steps out of the bedroom and taps his way downstairs.

His phone tells him that it's 7:04 in the morning. Which means he managed to get a full 6 hours of sleep – impressive by his standards.

Five slow, steady heartbeats – four in different rooms on the second floor, and one in the living room downstairs – tell Matt that the all adults are still sleeping. On the first floor, three quick, small hearts, accompanied by whispered conversations inform him that the kids are up and active already.

He feels his way to the kitchen, careful to sidestep the forgotten toys left on the floor. By the clinking of cereal bowls and the sloshing sound of milk being poured in mugs, it appears that the kids are preparing breakfast.

For them and what army? Matt wonders, as he senses a dozen sets of plates around the kitchen table. By the sound of dipping dough and the bittered-sweet taste burned pancake, it seems like a small accident has taken place by the stove.

"No! Colin!" Olivia is reprimanding, hands on her hips in an exact approximation of Candace. "You're supposed to put the chocolate powder _after_ the milk is warm!"

"Really?" Ruth asks, looking sideways from her place by the sink, where she's washing some fruits. She is using one of the kitchen stools to reach it more comfortably. "I thought it was the other way around."

Colin just shrugs, climbing on another stool to place the mug full with cold milk and spoonfuls of chocolate inside the microwave. "I think it doesn't matter either way," he replies, getting ready to prepare another mug.

Oli huffs but leaves him to it, turning back to the stove, where she's about to burn another pancake.

"Uh. Morning guys," Matt calls from the door, waving awkwardly in nobody's particular direction.

"Matt!" Ruthie exclaims, almost falling down her stool when she turns to face him. "You aren't supposed to be here!"

"Why not?" He asks, curious.

"We are preparing a surprise," she explains, seriously. "It's no fun if people know what it is before we reveal it."

"But it's for mom, Ruth. It doesn't matter if Matt knows," Colin reasonably argues. "Also, he can't see it, so if we don't tell him what it is, he won't know."

"Don't be rude, Colin," Olivia admonishes, flushing a little. "Besides, with all the noise you both are making, it's obvious what we are up to."

Ruthie snorts, in a most Theo-like fashion. "And it's _obvious_ by this horrible smell that you've burned the pancake," she shoots back, not at all mistaken.

"Shit!" Oli curses, reaching with the spatula to try and save the pancake, but it's too late. "This damned stove is different from the one back home," the girl tries to justify herself.

"Language!" Ruth and Colin shout back in unisson, giggling at their sister's panic.

Matt is greatly amused this exchange. He feared the children would have changed too much in the time he spent away, but they're still the kind, hyperactive, imaginative kids he watched grow up.

"If I had to guess I'd say you are preparing breakfast," Matt suggests. "But I could be wrong."

"Told you he knew," Olivia tells her sibling, sounding smug – though the effect is quite diminished by the smell of burned food that clings to her hair. She'll have to wash it later.

The smell of burning must have reached the bedrooms by now, because Matt clearly hears Candace cursing upstairs. Two rooms away, Anna is sitting up in the bed, besides her, Edward snores away, oblivious.

Matt wonders how can Theo sleep through all of this, when he's the one closest to this mess.

"I think your mom will be up soon," he informs the kids. "So why don't I help you clean this up so she's not mad at us when she gets here?" He proposes.

"Why would she be mad at you?" Colin asks, always perceptive. "We are the ones preparing the surprise."

"Sure, yeah," Matt replies, "but I'm the one who caught you red-handed and encouraged you."

The bathroom door upstairs opens and closes. Even the kids can hear it.

"Okay," Olivia quickly decides. "Ruth, put all the fruits you washed in the fruit basket at the center of the table," she order, pointing at her sister. "Colin, hurry up with the hot chocolates! I'm going to clean the stove and wash this pan." She pauses, turning to face Matt. "Matt, you distract my mom or my grandma – whoever comes down first. Don't let them into the kitchen until we've given you the sign."

The kids efficiently get to work, and Matt turns to go to the hallway, before stopping, as he realizes something. "Oli," he calls, "what exactly is the sign?"

Even if he can't see her face, Olivia's smirk is clear in her voice. "You'll know."

* * *

Ten minutes later, Matt hears the distinctive jingling noise of Olivia's bracelets clinking against each other. He senses the girl purposefully shaking her arms to produce louder sounds.

"I guess that's our cue," Candace comments, from where she leans against the handrail. She yaws, and Matt almost tastes the toothpaste she used. "Sorry 'bout that," the woman grumbles. "I only feel alive after I've had a cup of coffee."

"I completely understand," Matt replies, following her to the kitchen. "Foggy's pretty much the same."

Even before she opens the door, Matt knows the sight that will meet her inside.

The three kids stand side by side next to the kitchen table, from which they've removed the extra sets of plates, and have now filled with bowls of dry cereal accompanied by mugs of steaming hot chocolate. It seems that they gave up on the pancakes altogether, distributing the gingerbread cookies they had decorated the night before instead.

"Surprise!" They shout when Candace steps inside.

"What is this?" She asks, voice a tad higher than it normally goes when she's really surprised. "You made breakfast all by yourselves?"

Proudly, Ruth and Colin nod, pulling their mother to sit in one of the chairs. "We made cereal and fruit and hot chocolate," the youngest explains. "We wanted to make pancakes but they burned."

"We know it's not much," Ruth begins, sounding uncharacteristically shy. "But we wanted to help you with things in the house."

"We know how tired and stressed you've been these last few months," Olivia complements, voice small. "And we know how sad you are about dad," she murmurs, even more quietly. "But we want you to know that we love you and that we'll always be by your side." The words rush out of her, as if she's nervous about speaking such things out loud.

Candace's eyes fill with tears, though she doesn't let them fall. She bites the inside of her cheek and turns her face away, trying to recompose herself.

Matt makes a point to lower his head to give the family some small illusion of privacy.

"Thanks kids," she finally says, voice choked with emotion. "You're the most precious things in the world to me. I love you so much."

Olivia's skin grows hot and she shifts on her feet as if embarrassed by this sudden expression of emotions. Colin plays with the hem of his shirt, looking up at his sisters for guidance. It's Ruthie who takes the lead, confidently stepping forwards to hug her mother.

"Group hug!" She calls, voice muffled against Candace's shoulder.

Gladly, the other two follow, and they stay like that for about a minute, cuddled up together in the middle of the kitchen.

"The chocolate is getting cold," Colin reminds them, pulling away.

"Ah, yes," Candace agrees, surveying the set table, probably wondering if they used up all the cereal in the house. (The answer is yes, if Matt's nose can be trusted, and it usually can.) "Why don't you run upstairs to call everyone down for breakfast? In the meanwhile, I'll prepare some coffee for the adults."

As the kids rush out of the room, Candace gets up and moves to the cupboards, roaming for coffee.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Matt offers, hanging uncomfortably in the back. He's suddenly aware that as much as Foggy's sister is acting normally around him, in reality she's quite wary of him, after everything.

Matt hates that she does have reason to be.

"No, no," Candace waves him off. "Just grab a chair and enjoy your cereal," she says.

From upstairs, Matt hears Foggy let out an undignified squeal that means Ruthie has reached her target. Across the corridor, Colin jumps up in surprise when Anna opens the door he was about to knock on. She gestures for him to come in to wake Ed up, which the boy does gladly. When Olivia discreetly peers inside Karen's room she's met with the sight of the woman changing, and hurriedly stammers out an apology, closing the door.

One by one, the seats at the table are taken. They are all properly impressed at the breakfast the kids arranged, and happily dug in their foods and drinks. If no one quite manages to finish the gigantic portions of cereal, well, no one mentions it either.

As everyone properly wakes up, the conversation picks up again.

"Wait, where is Theo?" Anna suddenly asks, just realizing her youngest son is missing.

Matt can hear the young man shifting in his improvised bed, using his phone.

"He must still be asleep," Ruthie assumes, in the tone Foggy usually uses when he's rolling his eyes. "I'll wake him up," and rises to do just that.

"Throw some water on his head!" Candace calls after her.

"Candy!" Anna reprimands.

"Just kidding, Mom," she retorts, hiding a smile behind her mug of coffee.

"So," Edward begins, drawing their attention, "what are our plans for today?"

Foggy starts to say something, but chokes on the gingerbread cookie he had been in the process of swallowing. Matt, sitting by his side, slaps him on the back a few times.

"Ugh," he finally manages, "I plan to enjoy the warmth while I can. God knows it will be freezing when we go back home," he shivers, as if the mere reminder made him cold. "So I was thinking it'd be nice to do something outside."

Karen nods from across the table. "I heard that the Florida Botanical Gardens are holding the 'Holiday Lights in the Gardens'. Maybe we could go there."

"What's that?" Olivia asks curiously.

"It's an exhibition at the Botanical Gardens," Karen explains, "where they decorate the trees with colorful LED lights, so the whole place lights up when it gets dark. It's supposed to be very pretty."

"That sounds like a wonderful idea," Anna agrees. "You kids can go late this afternoon. I'll stay home to get everything ready for dinner."

"Mom..." Foggy frowns. "We're not having 30 relatives over this year. It's just us. You don't have to stay behind."

"Yes, grandma!" Ruthie exclaims, coming back into the kitchen and pulling Theo with her. "It'll be more fun if you come with us."

"Hooray," he mumbles, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Morning everyone."

"Listen to your son and granddaughter, An," Edward orders, ignoring his Theo's appearance. "They know what they're saying."

Anna huffs, but Matt can tell she's secretly pleased. "Alright, alright. I'll come with you. But we'll have to go in two cars," she warns.

"No problem," Candace interjects, "we can use your car and the one I rented. There's more than enough space."

"Don't worry, Matt," Colin says from Foggy's other side. "We'll describe the lights for you so you'll know what we are looking at."

"That's really nice of you Colin," Mat reply, smiling. "I'd appreciate it."

"Besides," Karen quickly adds, "there are musical attractions as well, so it's not like you won't be able to enjoy anything, Matt." She sounds apologetical, and Matt wonders if she momentarily forgot that although his heightened senses make up for much and then some, he still has a disability at the end of the day.

"It's fine Karen," he reassures her. "I don't really care what we do. Just being with you guys is more than enough to make me happy."

"Awww," Foggy teases, bumping his shoulder with Matt's. But he can tell by the skip of his heartbeat that his friend is pleasantly surprised at the words. "You're getting soft on us, Murdock."

Matt shrugs in a 'what can you do' gesture, and hopes no one can see him blushing.

"I'll only go to this lights thingy if Matt agrees to play Marco-Polo with me," Ruth estates, crossing her arms and attempting to frown seriously.

Matt chuckles at her antics. "I promise I'll play with you, Ruthie."

"Good!" She decides. "I was really disappointed last year when you didn't come to play," she reveals, not sounding particularly sad, just annoyed.

"Now that you mention it," Olivia begins, sounding thoughtful. "Why didn't you visit us the past Christmas, Matt? We asked Uncle Foggy but he just said you were busy with work, but I know for sure that Christmas is a holiday, so people don't work during it."

"Mom said you were probably celebrating with other people," Colin adds. "But we are your family, aren't we? So how come you didn't come to see us?"

Matt feels all faces turning in his direction. He's dealt with many juries in his career as a defense attorney. None of them ever left him feeling as bereft as now.

"...it's complicated," he says at least, cringing a little at how pathetic that sounds.

"Now that I think about it," Ruth continues, as if he hasn't spoken. "You didn't come to our birthday parties this year, either."

"Nor in the year before," Colin helpfully adds, nodding sagely. "I remember because when I turned six I invited one of my classmates for my party and she was blind too. I told her I had a cool blind uncle that she could meet, but then you didn't show."

Matt swallows drily and wishes he had something to fiddle with, but he had tucked his cane away when he sat to eat.

"I'm really sorry guys," he tries. "I was dealing with some adult stuff that demanded a lot of my attention."

Ruth purses her lips disapprovingly at him and starts to say, in a perfect imitation of her grandmother, "that's no excuse!" At the same time, Olivia murmurs quietly under her breath, saging on her seat, face tilted down.

"You broke his heart, you know."

Matt doesn't need to hear Foggy's silent gasp to know who the girl is talking about. His throat burns with all the thing he wishes he could say.

"I-I," he starts to say, but no words come to mind.

Around the table, Matt can smell nervous sweating, hear accelerating heartbeats and sense people fidgeting nervously. He wishes the floor would open up and swallow him whole, just so that he didn't have to stand the wondering/pitying/judging/angry gazes that he _knows_ are directed towards him.

"Honestly, kids," Anna abruptly stands up, causing her chair to screech against the tiles. "Matt doesn't owe us anything. He doesn't have to justify himself to anyone, least of all to us. Now quit this nonsense before I ground you all."

Matt has never heard her sound so stern, especially not with her grandchildren. Apparently the kids realize their grandma means business, because they all snap their mouths shut, not daring to complain.

The silence in the kitchen is awkward and deafening.

Edward clears his throat loudly, as Anna sits down again. "Do you think there will be a lot of traffic on the FL-60, dear?" He asks, as if nothing had happened.

His wife clicks her tongue, glad to follow his lead. "I think it's best to take the I-275, actually, you know how–"

Matt only realizes he has stood up when Anna stops mid-sentence.

"I-I need some air," he manages to stammer out, before fleeing the kitchen. He doesn't even remember to pretend to need his cane. But he's way past caring at that point.

Somehow, Matt manages to find his way to the front door and out of the house. It's still relatively early in the morning, so the streets are mostly empty. That turns out to be a blessing, because it takes Matt a whole block to realize he's forgotten to tap his cane in front of his, as he scrambles away from the Nelsons.

Turning a corner, Matt comes to a halt, breathing hard. There's no reason for him to feel so exhausted, he barely walked three blocks. Still, he leans hard against a tree, trying to focus on the brittle bark under his fingers, panting as if he has just run a marathon.

He spreads his senses around his surroundings, just to have something to focus on. That turns out to be a particularly bad idea.

As soon as he lets his awareness wander, he picks up on Foggy's voice and can't help but zero in it. It's Foggy. It's familiar and safe and home.

 _That's really not the time for us to have this discussion, Candace,_ he's saying, impatience and worry clear in his voice. _I got to go find Matt._

 _Hold on, Foggy!_ His sister replies, frustrated and equally impatient.

They are no longer in the kitchen. Maybe they are at the porch? Their voices are not as muffled as they would be if they'd been inside.

 _Don't you think maybe the kids got a point?_ Candace presses. _Don't you think we deserve some sort of explanation or apology?_

Yes, Matt thinks. They do, you do, Foggy.

 _He's my best friend, Candy,_ Foggy replies as if that answered her question, and he sounds so utterly exhausted that Matt wants to cry.

 _He's a lousy best friend then_ , she retorts, acidly.

 _You can't– You have absolutely no idea–_ , Foggy is so angry he can't complete a coherent sentence. Matt can't remember the last time that had happened. Probably when they were still in college and Matt had almost flunked one of his courses because of a prejudiced douche of a professor.

I _don't have an idea?_ Cancade interrupts. She's shouting now. _I'm sorry,_ she says, sounding anything but. _Are we just supposed to pretend you didn't spend last Christmas moping in a corner because your "best friend" couldn't be bothered to actually act the part? Do you expect us to simply roll over while Murdock gets tangled up in your life again, after having left you high and dry? For Christ's sake, Fog! I'm not saying this to be a bitch. We were all so fucking worried about you last year. I just don't want you to go through that again, alright?_

Even if Matt wanted to keep listening in, he wouldn't have been able to. Cold regret drowns his lungs, and he can't focus past the thundering of his own breaking heart.

Suddenly frustrated, Matt punches the bark viciously, barely managing to hold in a snarl. He doesn't know what he was thinking. He _knew_ this was a bad idea. He knew this visit couldn't end in anything other than disaster. He had disappointed these people in the past, and odds were he would do so again. It was naïve and delusional of him to think he could just come back as if nothing had happened. But worse than that, it was selfish and greedy to think he could have anything resembling normal relationships. Again and again God slams the cold, hard facts into his face, and again and again he deludes himself into believing he can ignore them and go beyond God's plan for him. Everyone he has ever loved always leaves in the end. And still– And _still_ Matt runs after them. Foggy and Karen think his addiction is to being Daredevil, but in truth Matt is addicted to something far more dangerous:

He's addicted to _mattering_ to people.

Without meaning to, he builds relationships with others so that he will trick them into caring about him, into wanting to help him. Matt creates irresistible temptations to himself and to others, and when he gives in to them, God punishes him – as he so rightly deserves to be punished – for his weakness and egotistical nature.

Laughing humorlessly, Matt remembers his grandmother's famous words.

 _Be careful of the Murdock boys, They got the devil in them._

The thing his grandmother hadn't realized, Matt thinks, is that the Murdocks are not dangerous because of their proclivity to violence. Lucifer, after all, is soft spoken and silk tongued. He doesn't beat you into reluctantly renouncing God. He sweet-talks you into _wanting_ to give up your soul to the devil.

His father had once made his mother turn her back on her faith in order to have Matt – a decision that cost her her health and could have cost her life. With a surge of desperation, Matt asks himself: what can the product of such a ill-advised union be but the incarnation of wickedness and evil themselves?

Just like his father, he had compelled the people close to him into putting their lives on the line for his sake, for his ideals, for his crusade.

Battlin' Jack Murdock had pushed one person to the devil's side and that had gotten him killed.

Matt had corrupted countless others. He didn't even _deserve_ to die at this point, as his failed suicide attempted confirmed.

His own father, Foggy, the rest of the Nelsons, Karen, Claire, Ben Urich, Brett Mahoney, Melvin Potter, Father Lantom, Elektra, Ray Nadeem, Sister Maggie. All of them would have been much better off without Matt Murdock in their lives.

Stick had been a sign that Matt had to stop getting entangled with people. He tried to teach Matt how dangerous that was. But by then Matt had already killed his father with his stupid ideals – the devil's claws were too deeply ingrained in his heart. Even Stick had not been immune to Matt's trickery – he had begun to care too, the paper bracelet proved that – but he had recognized it in time to pull himself away.

He had done the same with Elektra. If he hadn't fooled her with talks of being good and being together, she would have left Hell's Kitchen never to return. Whole, alive. Without the burden of caring about Matt.

Foggy was the same. Oh, Matt had been particularly cruel with him. He spent years building their friendship, creating interdependence between them, so that when Matt finally showed his true colors, no matter how horrifying they were, Foggy was already too involved to get out.

He sees the same pattern repeated in all his relationships. It's hideous and disgusting, but at the same time it makes so much sense that Matt knows it's the only possible explanation. That's the piece of the puzzle he's been missing ever since he was a kid.

He'd asked God: Why don't I have a mother? Why did I have to lose my sight? Why did my father have to leave me? Why can I hear other people's prayers?

But it's the Devil who's been replying all along: It's all so that you become more tempting for – and more tempted by – the love of the people closest to you. It's through that love that you will destroy them.


	5. You just never know when to stop

**Chapter 5: You always know where to start. You just never know when to stop**

* * *

In the end, it's Olivia who finds Matt.

Well. She doesn't exactly _find_ him per se, it's more that she _lures_ him into showing his face.

After Foggy walks out on his sister – and right now he can't even _think_ about her or the things she said without wanting to punch something –, the kids insist on helping him and Karen look for Matt. So Foggy grabs Oli and marches left, towards the main avenue, while Karen grabs Ruthie and turns right, in direction to the local park, while Colin waits dejectedly at home, in case Matt shows up on his own.

For a whole three blocks, Olivia doesn't say a word. Which is more worrisome than Foggy can deal with at the moment. He himself can't think of anything to say to reassure her either.

"It's my fault," she blurts out, after they've talked to a man doing his morning jog and he's said he hasn't seen anyone else wandering the neighborhood the whole morning.

"What are you talking about?" Foggy demands, distractedly. If he was a emotional wreckage, blind man with super senses, where would he go to hide from his problems?

"It's my fault everyone got upset," Oli elaborates, refusing to meet his eyes. "It's because of what I said that Matt left and mom shouted at you. I should have kept my mouth shut. I'm sorry, Uncle Foggy."

Foggy freezes in his tracks, causing the girl to collide with him. Lowering himself until his at eye level with her, he puts his hands on her bony shoulders and waits until she tilts her head back up before speaking. "Olivia, it's _not_ your fault. You have nothing to apologize for." Foggy runs a desperate hand through his hair and wishes he still had long strands to pull on. "You just– You were just brave enough to say what none of us dared to."

The girl shakes her head violently. Tears pooling at the corners of her eyes. "I always ruin everything. I ruined my parents marriage and now I've pushed Matt away again, just when he started to visit us again."

Foggy frowns, bewildered. "Oli, your mom and dad splitting up has nothing to do with you," he explains. "Their fight is between them and them alone, do you understand that?"

"It was me who asked mom about dad's friend," she confesses. "But I didn't know! I had no idea mom would be so upset. I didn't want them to fight."

Foggy has to hold in an inappropriate curse. How could Candace and Henry have missed this?

"Listen to me very carefully," he says, desperate for her to believe him. " _None_ of this is your fault. Not your parents' divorce, and certainly not the shit going on with Matt and me. I'm sorry we made you feel like it was."

Olivia nods tearfully, but she seems marginally less upset.

"Now," Foggy straightens, looking around, "let's continue our hunt."

His niece suddenly perks up. "Wait. I think I have an idea!" She exclaims, sounding excited about being able to help.

"I'm all ears," Foggy replies, intrigued about what she could have come up with.

"Follow me," she commands, walking briskly towards the avenue.

As they approach the main street, Foggy notices the increase of people and traffic. Many stores are closed, seeing as it's Christmas Eve, but many others are still working.

In a narrow part of the sidewalk, he has to stop to let an old couple go through. When he looks up again, he's lost sight of Olivia.

"Oli!" He shouts, searching left and right for her, to no avail. He wonders if she's gone into one of the shops and starts to peek through the glass windows.

"Shit," he hears a man close by curse. "What's that kid doing?!"

Turning around, Foggy follows the man's line of sight. He almost collapses at what he sees.

"Olivia!" He screams, dashing in her direction.

She's standing in right in the middle of the avenue, stepping over the yellow lines that divide the road between the cars coming and going. Closing her eyes, she begins to walk, putting one foot in front of the other, as if the double lines were some sort of tightrope in a circus, and she was a performer.

What's she _thinking_?

"Olivia! Come here right now!" Foggy orders. He's reached the asphalt, but the traffic is too intense for him to safely cross.

Around him, other people seem to realize something's wrong too. From the other side of the street, people try to approach, but the cars and motorcycles are moving too fast.

"Oli!" Foggy bellows, not caring in the slightest if he sounds like a lunatic.

She seems to slip. There's some oil on the ground, and when she steps on it, Olivia almost loses her balance. She manages to straighten up in the last minute, narrowly avoiding getting hit by a motorcyclist who is passing a car through the left. The man honks and shouts, and the girl falters in her steps, suddenly looking frightened.

Foggy's heart beats so loudly in his ears that he can barely hear the people around him screaming. He starts to move forwards before he even knows what he's doing. He'd rather risk getting hit by a car than let his niece be hurt.

He steps into the asphalt, not looking anywhere but at Olivia. Then, something pulls him back by the collar of his shirt. All he sees is a flash of bright red and all he hears is the deafening sound of the truck that would have hit him, had he proceeded to cross.

Before Foggy gets the chance to twist around, someone – a man – is stepping over and in front of him. Quickly dashing through moving cars, he reaches the yellow lines. He puts his hands on Olivia's shoulders, making her turn to him. Then, he says something to her, to which she nods, once.

Foggy sees Matt – with neither cane nor glasses – pull Olivia into his arms and sprint back the way he came, placing the shaking girl neatly into Foggy's reach.

It all happens so fast that Foggy doesn't have time to worry about his friend getting killed, or getting his niece killed, or being found out.

Around them, people are applauding and clapping Matt on the back, congratulating him on the miraculous save.

A mother of three is frowning at Foggy, telling him that he shouldn't let his daughter wander off like that.

Olivia is hugging him like he's a lifeboat and she's in the middle of a ship wreckage. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she's mumbling against his belly. "It was a bad idea. I'm really sorry."

Matt is standing right in front of them. He has one hand on Foggy's elbow, and the other on Olivia's back, like he's making sure they are both really _there_. His hands are shaking. Without his glasses, Matt's expression is an open book for Foggy to read from. The fear and relief are clear and to be expected, but the guilt and the regret take Foggy by surprise. Matt tries to direct his eyes in the general direction of Foggy's, but as always he misses by an inch or two.

"I-I," his friend stutters out, and Foggy is abruptly reminded of Matt's speechlessness during breakfast. It's been less than an hour, but it feels like a long time has passed.

"Let's get out of here," Foggy decides for the three of them. Holding tightly to Olivia's hand, he pulls her forwards, towards the direction of his parents' place. He does his best to ignore or sidestep the small crowd around them; assuring those who ask that yes, they're fine, no, they don't need to call an ambulance, and yes, he's taking her home now.

Matt gets in step with them, walking confidently, like a sighted person.

"I know a shortcut," he says, and leads them into a side street that Foggy hadn't even known was there.

Then it's just the three of them in an empty passageway, protected from view by trees and bushes.

"Olivia," Foggy begins coming to a full stop. Now that the numbing fear has subsided, he's impossibly angry. He counts to ten as not to say something he'll regret. "Olivia. What the actual hell was that?" He asks, and if even _he_ feels his voice trembling with barely-suppressed outrage, for Matt it must sound like an earthquake. "What were you thinking? You could have gotten yourself killed! You could have gotten me killed! You could have gotten Matt–"

He cuts himself mid-sentence.

A crazy, impossible idea comes to his mind.

"Olivia," he starts slowly, watching as the girl fidgets under his implacable, badass-lawyer stare. "Did you put yourself in danger because you knew Matt would come to save you?" He asks, disbelieving.

A tiny nod. "Yeah," she mutters, still refusing to meet his eyes.

Foggy turns to Matt, who's leaning with his back to a wall covered in green moss. Foggy spares a second to wonder how in seven-hells had moss grown there, of all places, before shaking himself out of it. Matt's eyes are closed, and he seems to be trying to get his breathing under control. He doesn't seem surprised or worried about the recent revelations. In truth, he doesn't seem to be paying much attention to them at all.

"How–How did you know?" Foggy inquires, looking back at Olivia. "And don't lie," he adds, before his niece has a chance to open her mouth.

Oli's gaze flickers to Matt, before returning to her shoes.

"You remember my 6th birthday?" She asks in return. "It was May 14 2012," she says, without waiting for him to reply. "The day–"

"The day of the Incident," Foggy interrupts. "Yeah. How could I ever forget the panicked running around for our lives?"

"Matt saved us that day," Olivia tells him, ignoring his attempt at humor. "You didn't see it. You had your back turned. But I did."

Foggy wracks his brain to recall the details of that day. It had been Oli's birthday, and he and Matt had taken her to choose her gift. They would have a test or something on the day of her party, and as they wouldn't be able to attend, they were making it up by going out with her that day. They had just left the subway when Foggy heard the screams. Then, it was a blur of people, and crashing cars, and the police trying to evacuate the area, and fucking _aliens_. Foggy had held on to Matt with one hand and grasped Oli with the other and he hadn't let go until it was all over.

"We were running, trying to get away," the girl continues. "Those aliens were flying over us, smashing things, breaking windows – glass was flying everything. I was so scared," she visibly shivers at the memory. "And then, a huge stone block got loose. I just saw it when it was already coming towards us. In the last second, Matt pushed us out of the way. He couldn't possibly have known, but still, somehow, he did."

Foggy remembers that moment with clarity. He remembers toppling forwards, having the breath knocked out of him by the impact. He remembers looking back and thinking that it was sheer, dumb luck they hadn't been killed.

In reality, it had been Matt all along.

"Shit," Foggy says, and the word can't begin to express how he really feels about it. "So that's how you knew."

Olivia is nodding emphatically. "It was then that I figured out that Matt can predict the future."

Sure, that's how she–

The what?

"Hold up," Matt suddenly says, straightening up and focusing on them. "What do you mean, 'predict the future'?" He asks. And finally – _finally_ – Foggy isn't the only one looking completely lost.

Olivia's eyes widen. And now they are not one, or two, but _three_ very confused people.

"Do you mean you _can't_ see the future?" She demands, sounding almost offended. Like, how could Mat have disappointed her like that? "Then how did you know about the falling block? How did you know about the turkey catching fire? How did you know when to cross the street to get me?"

Foggy looks at Matt, and Matt turns his face towards Foggy's.

Then, Matt gives him his 'your witness' gesture and Foggy sighs.

* * *

They don't tell Candace about what happened. Of course they don't. She would freak out and then ask questions none of them had a good – truthful – answer to.

But before returning home, they do tell the truth to Olivia. Or at least, the PG-rated version of it.

Matt explains how his senses got heightened after the accident that blinded him, and how he uses cues like sounds and smells to sort of 'see' the world.

"So you're kind of like a bat," the girl concludes, as they're walking down the street to the Nelsons. She doesn't appear weirded out. She mostly sounds curious and impressed. "With a sonar and everything."

Matt – who has retrieved his cane and glasses from the mysterious place he stashed them before running to the rescue – shrugs. "Yeah, something like that."

"Neat," Olivia comments with an approving nod. "It's almost as cool as you being a seer."

Foggy clears his throat. "Listen Oli," he begins, careful with how he'll put it. "It's very important that you don't speak about this with anyone, okay? Not even with your mother, or with your brother and sister. It's supposed to be a secret."

"Why?" She ask, not doubtful or disagreeing, just intrigued.

Foggy glances at Matt, helpless.

"Because these abilities," Foggy tries, slowly speaking the words as they come to him, "make Matt different from everyone, you see." He pauses, thinking. "And being different sometimes is good, don't get me wrong!" He quickly adds, as so not to give her the wrong idea. "But it can be dangerous too. People might want to use Matt's abilities for their own ends. Or they might call him a freak and do experimentos on him." At that, Matt huffs indignantly, but keeps silent, letting Foggy lead. "So we got to protect him, alright?"

"Alright," Oli easily agrees. "I can keep a secret," she promises.

When they get home, Karen and Ruthie have already returned. Besides Ruthie and Colin's exalted questions about where Matt's been and how did Foggy and Olivia find him – which they brush off with little issue – everyone else acts like nothing has happened, which Foggy can tell Matt really appreciates.

He kind of expects Candace to be outright rude to him, or at least to shoot some passive-aggressive comments his way, but her demeanor is meak and the most offensive thing she does towards him is to avoid his eyes when crossing with him in the corridor.

The rest of the morning goes by without incident. Matt does play Marco-Polo with Ruth and the others, and even hops Karen into participating as well, much to Foggy's delight.

The three friends don't really get a chance to speak in private until well after lunch.

"So, what really happened?" Karen asks without preamble, when they're finally alone.

They are sitting around an improvised picnic table Foggy's mom put in the backyard. The rest of the family is inside, either watching TV, taking a nap or doing something in the kitchen. They told the others they wanted to enjoy the sun and the warmth while they could, and had been left to it.

"Why do you think something happened?" Foggy asks back, just to mess with her. (And, if he's being honest with himself, to delay the inevitable _talk_.)

Karen huffs, impatient, waving her hand at him. "Olivia can't stop grinning like a maniac whenever her eyes fall on Matt," she points out. "You, Foggy, seem to be on the verge of having a heart attack every time she opens her mouth to speak. And you, Matt, just– Something _always_ happens with you. It's like you attract these things."

That makes Matt chuckle, but the sound is dark and sour in a way that makes Foggy uncomfortable. Matt's expression is closed off, and Foggy wishes he hadn't put his glasses on again.

"You may have a point," Matt concedes, trying to go for a cocky smirk, but doesn't quite manage to pull it off.

"She has many points, buddy," Foggy corrects, and proceeds to narrate their adventure.

Matt fills in the parts Foggy hadn't been around to witness. Like how Matt had been about three blocks away from them when he heard Foggy calling Olivia's name, and how he had rushed as fast as he could in the unknown terrain and almost didn't manage to arrive on time.

When they get to the part about Olivia believing for years that Matt's some sort of fortune teller, Karen loses it.

"I mean," Matt tries to defend himself, "I realized she's been suspicious of me since that day. The first few months she kept trying to trick me into revealing that I knew things I couldn't have known. After a while she seemed to have let it go. But I never thought _that's_ what she came up with."

"That girl is something else," Karen manages to say, finally calming down. Foggy can still see the flush in her cheeks after laughing so hard. "The three of them are, actually," she adds thoughtfully.

Foggy would have brushed that comment off, but something in her voice – or her heart, or her breathing, or her freaking saliva – must catch Matt's attention, because he tilts his face curiously in her direction.

"How so?" He inquires.

Karen bites her lips, looking away for a moment. "After we came back, Ruth, Colin and I talked for a bit, and I realized something." She pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, turning back towards them, smiling a small smile, with an edge of irony to it. "It's naïve how we, as adults, seem to think we'll able to protect our children if we simply avoid saying certain things in front of them. In reality, we're just protecting ourselves."

"What did they tell you?" Foggy asks quietly.

Karen grimaces a little, shrugging with one shoulder. "They mentioned their parents' divorce, and how it's been difficult at home. Olivia seems to be taking it particularly hard, according to the others."

"Yeah," Foggy interjects. "We spoke briefly about that. It's really fucked up."

They are silent for a few minutes, each lost in their thoughts.

Foggy wants to say something. He knows he and Matt need to talk about what the kids brought up at breakfast. About how to deal with his family's suspicions and hidden accusations. About the things that are still unsaid between them. But he fears that if he speaks of them, the barriers between the two of them will grow thicker. There's so much hurt and bitterness between them, and Foggy's tired of fighting, but he doesn't know how to talk about these things without it turning into a fight.

He doesn't want to have to walk away again, but he's afraid Matt will give him reason to.

"What did you tell her, anyway?" Matt suddenly asks, and for a moment Foggy's confused about to whom he's speaking.

"What?" Karen retorts, a little too quickly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Matt's raised eyebrows can be seen even behind his dark lenses. "I mean," he elaborates, "what did you say to Candace to get her so worked up?"

Foggy lets his mouth fall open in sudden understanding. "So that's why she's acting so strange. I thought she was just feeling guilty about our argument."

The fact that neither of his friends has to ask to which argument he's referring is a little disconcerting.

"I didn't tell her anything she didn't already know," Karen explains, unhelpfully. "I just mentioned a few things that might have, well, slipped her mind."

"For example?" Matt prompts.

"For example," Karen answers, voice calm and composed. Only the spark in her eyes betrays her true sentiments. "I pointed out how the circumstances of her divorce are completely different and unrelated to what happened between her brother and his best friend, and how it's totally unhelpful and unreasonable for her to project her issues into other people's relationships just to avoid dealing with her own stuff. I might have also observed that her brother is a responsible, educated adult, who's able to take care of himself and make his own decisions. And that if he chooses to remain friends with someone, then he must have a good reason for it, one that he may or may not choose to disclose to other people."

A beat of silence.

"Oh. My. God." Foggy says, just a _little_ over the top with the dramatics. "You verbally obliterated my sister. Shit. You totally did! I wish I could have been there to witness it. Please tell me you made a recording of it."

Karen giggles at his antics, and even Matt can't suppress his amused grin.

"I plead the fifth," she replies, grinning in that mischievous, secretly-proud way she sometimes gets after writing an especially good article for the paper or cracking a particularly difficult case.

"I knew we shouldn't have taught Karen legal vocabulary," Foggy tells Matt in mock-despair. "Remind me again why we thought it was a good idea to give her even for ammunition against us?"

Chuckling despite himself, Matt takes a moment to think about the answer. "I believe it had something to do with the fact that Karen manages to get more done at the office than the two of us put together."

"Darn, you're right!" He replies, fisting the air. "Where would Nelson & Murdock be without Page?" Foggy asks, only half-joking.

"Absolutely lost," Matt replies, 100% serious.


	6. Telling the truth is never simple

**Chapter 6: Telling the truth is never simple or easy. Why, only the best of us ever really try.**

* * *

Karen knows something's up with Matt and Foggy. Which is kind of a given when you're talking about Matt, really. But Foggy is usually more reasonable about these things.

She's always known that it was only a matter of time before everything blew up in Matt's face. The Nelsons are kind and warm, but they're also fiercely protective of each other. Whether Matt, or even Foggy, wants to admit or not, Foggy has been hurt by Matt's actions, and his family wasn't going to simply turn a blind eye.

That's not to say they aren't willing to forgive, of course. It's clear by their interactions that they deeply care about Matt and are truly happy to have him back in their midst.

Karen suddenly wonders how it would feel like to have a family as protective of her, as the Nelsons are of Foggy. Would they be angry with Matt in her behalf? Would they pull him aside and threaten him with bodily harm if he doesn't straighten up?

She sighs, waving such unhelpful thoughts away. Karen and Matt have their own stuff to deal with, but right now she has to focus on helping her two best friends get back on the same page.

Things had been going well, Karen thinks, letting her gaze wander out of the car window.

They are crossing the bridge that runs over Old Tampa Bay. There are some clouds in the sky, but they look soft and cotton-like, so she doesn't think they have to worry about rain anytime soon.

In the months following Matt's return, the three of them had begun to work together again. At first, they really set up their base in a unused backroom at Nelson's Meats. It was strange, being constantly in each other's company again. Like it or not, after the dismantling of Nelson & Murdock, even Karen and Foggy had grown apart. Still, slowly but surely they got used to working as a team performing mundane, daily tasks – and not only taking down major crime bosses.

The dynamic was different, how could it not be? With both Karen and Foggy aware of what Matt was really capable of, he didn't have to waste time pretending, and he also could more easily and openly share information he gathered without having to come up with elaborate explanations for the source of his facts.

Moreover, both Karen and Matt made a point to try and be more forthcoming with their plans and intentions. If Karen planned to start an investigation about the possibly-crime-involved step-son of a client, she'd tell Matt or Foggy about it. Not to ask permission, or anything of the kind, but to make sure another person knew what she was getting involved with, in case things went south. If Matt planned to – afterhours – hit up a drug deal or trafficking of illegal firearms, he'd mention it at work. Sometimes he even remembered to text them to say he'd made it back home safely.

Also, Foggy was trying to be more understanding of his friends' predisposition to put themselves in less-than-ideally-safe situations. He was learning to be less judgemental and to trust that they knew their limits, and knew when to take a step back and ask for help. (Matt was a work in progress on that one.)

There were misunderstandings, there were arguments. Sometimes they would disagree about what 'necessary risk' meant in a particular case, or one of them – usually Matt, but Karen had her moments too – would be reticent in disclosing certain details of their afterhours activities, for fear of being stopped – sometimes, rightly so.

But still, they are getting better. Their friendship isn't the same as it once was, but it is growing in ways that weren't possible before. New sorts of understandings had to be found between them, and these understandings are sometimes difficult to grasp when looking from the outside. Hence all the strain with the Nelsons.

Karen expected awkward moments when she agreed to come to Florida with them, what she didn't expect was whatever had went down with Matt. It was more than just having a hard time dealing with his friend's family, Karen can tell. And if Foggy's slightly panicked, definitely anxious behavior is any indication, so can he. She only wishes they'd just outright say it already, but that might be the journalist in her speaking, who always believes the story must be told. In the real world, in real relationships, sometimes there were things too difficult to say.

"Can we play another round of I hear with my little ear?" Colin's question breaks Karen out of her reverie.

"Maybe on the trip back home, Col," Edward hurries to reply. "Right now Uncle Theo has to concentrate on finding the right exit to take us to the Gardens."

Karen had been amused to witness Colin's creativity when it came to inventing ways to keep himself entertained in a hour-long journey in a car with four adults.

Before leaving the Swann Estates, they had divided themselves in two cars. Candace's rental was taking her, Anna, Foggy and the two girls, while the family car carried the rest of the group.

Theo had insisted on driving. He made it sound like he liked the opportunity to seat behind a wheel, seeing as in New York it was completely impractical to use a car, but Karen thought the young man had other motivations, most likely related to Edward's growing tremors.

Despite Karen's protests, Edward had given her the passenger seat, and sat on the back with Colin and Matt.

On the first few minutes of the journey, they tried to play the classical 'I spy with my little eye', but Colin found it inadmissible that Matt couldn't take part, so he had made up a new game, in which they were supposed to listen for sounds and try to have the others guess what it was.

That had been fun. Karen rarely stopped to think how much vision took of her attention. It was challenging and enlightening to try and concentrate on what another sense could pick up.

Still, after about ten rounds, of which Matt had actually won just two, much to Karen's surprise – maybe there were so many sounds he could pick up that it was difficult to identify what was in range for people with normal hearing? –, the game became kind of boring.

Colin huffs, frustrated, but doesn't argue.

After they've finishing crossing the bridge, the boy perks up again. "I have an idea! Let's play riddles!"

Karen hears more than one person sighing, and wonders if in the other car Foggy is also bending over backwards to entertain his nieces. Probably.

"Alright, I can start," Karen says after a beat of silence, taking pity on Colin. She wracks her brains, trying to remember a riddle. "Okay, I got one. I get smaller every time I take a bath. What I am?"

Colin laughs. "This one is too easy! You're a soap!"

Karen chuckles at his giddiness. "That's right."

"Knew it," the boy comments, smug. "Now it's your turn, Uncle Theo."

"Err..." He mumbles, scratching the back of his neck. He shoots Karen a sideways, embarrassed look. "Somehow, I can only think about dirty jokes," he mutters in her direction, causing her to snort.

"What was that?" Edward demands.

"Nothing!" Theo quickly replies.

"I have one," Matt helpfully interjects, and Karen can hear the smirk in his lips. Of course he heard Theo's comment. "Which word contains all 26 letters but only three syllables?"

Colin frowns at that. "Not fair," he protests. "You all know many more words than I do."

"I'm sure you know this word," Matt reassures him, smiling.

The boy thinks for about a minute, before giving up with a frustrated huff.

"I think we should let the journalist answer this one," Theo says, raising his eyebrows playfully at Karen.

She rolls her eyes, but obediently plays along. "Is it…the alphabet?"

"Nice one, Page," Matt praises with a nod.

"Okay, now it's your turn, Grandpa," Colin orders, looking up at Edward.

The old man purses his lips in concentration. "Aha! This one is fun," he finally says, grinning at his grandson. "What has one head, one foot, and four legs?"

"One foot and _four_ legs?" Colin demands, bewildered. "Really?"

"Yep," Edward confirms.

"It's trick, guys," Matt interjects, as if he was addressing them all, and not discreetly tipping Col in the right direction. "We have to remember that sometimes we say that certain objects have legs too."

Colin's eyes widen as he has an insight. "I know it! I know it!"

"Gosh, you're fast!" Theo comments, sounding impressed. "I haven't gotten past the 'one head' part."

The boy giggles, pleased with himself. "It's not that difficult," he pompously says. "The answer is a bed."

"Oh! That makes sense," his uncle admits.

"I think now it's you, right, Col?" Karen prompts. "Did you think of a good riddle for us?"

"Hmm..." The boy cocks his head, scratching his chin. "Yeah, I think so! It was grandma who told me this one. I didn't get it right the first time."

"Uh. It must be hard, then," Edward comments.

"Alright, shoot!" Theo urges. "Now, I'm curious."

Colin smiles mischievously at them all. "If you have me, you want to share me. If you share me, you haven't got me. What am I?" He recites, clearly having memorized the words.

Karen tries to think of a possible answer, but everything she comes up with sounds rather silly, or doesn't quite fit the riddle. Glancing around, it seems like she's not the only one.

"I got to hand it to Ann," Edward says. "That woman's got brains. I have no idea."

"I'm honestly out of ideas, too," Matt concedes.

Colin's grin widens when Karen and Theo admit defeat too. "You give up?" He asks, sounding elated that he managed to tell a riddle no one figured out. At their nods, he almost jumps in his seat. "It's a secret!"

Theo frowns. "So, you're not going to tell us?"

"No, Uncle Theo!" Colin contradicts impatiently. "The answer is 'secret'."

"Ahhh," the young man says in realization, and again Karen can't tell if he's messing around with them or if he's being serious.

Edward nods proudly at his grandson. "Very smart, Col," he compliments, before pausing for a moment. Karen doesn't think she imagines the way his eyes flicker towards Matt. "I only have one reservation regarding your riddle," he continues. "You know, sometimes people don't really want to share their secrets."

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the car changes. If it once had been relaxed and fun, now there is an unspoken tension that was not there before.

Colin just looks at grandfather, seeming confused. Besides him, Matt shifts in his seat, turning his head away, appearing uncomfortable. Again, Karen wonders what kind of cues he's picking up from the people around him.

"Yeah," Edward goes on. "It's true. Sometimes, people feel like they can't share things about themselves with their friends and family, because they're afraid they'll be mocked of misunderstood. Other times, people feel like they have to lie and hide to protect those close to them."

"And they're wrong?" Colin guesses, guilelessly.

On the back, Matt's form is still tense, but he has his head tilted to the side, listening carefully.

It's Theo who answers. "Not necessarily," he says, and though he's outwardly relaxed, Karen can tell by the way he's gripping the wheel tightly that he's invested in this conversation. "Maybe there are things we can't really talk about. Maybe there are secrets that are not meant to be shared," he shrugs in a 'what do I know' gesture. "I think the only person who can decide if a secret can be told or not, is the person to whom that secret belongs. I mean, as long as it's not hurting anyone, it's none of other people's business."

Edward nods. "Indeed," he agrees, voice amicable. "The problem arises," he pronounces every word careful and deliberately, and if Karen ever had any doubt that there was a deeper meaning to this conversation, she doesn't anymore, "when these things left untold begin to have a detrimental effect on the lives of the people involved. When one lie leads to another and another. And without meaning too, these lies end up pushing the people they were meant to protect into even more danger. Instead of sparing, they hurt."

Karen definitely isn't imagining the abrupt flinch that passes through Matt's expression.

"Anyways. Everyone makes mistakes," Theo says at last. "We're all human after all. So it's no use to keep stuck in the past. The important thing is to try and do better in the future. Yeah?"

Glancing back, Karen catches Matt lowering his head minutely, as if nodding to himself.

Completely lost, Colin hesitantly assents. "If you say so..." Then he frowns, as if he has just been reminded of something. "But I'm not going to be the one to explain all of this to grandma."

* * *

"Do you think they got the kids to plot against me too, or that was just coincidence?" Matt suddenly asks her, about two hours later.

They're walking side by side in the Botanical Gardens. The evening still isn't pitch-black, but it's dark enough that the effect of the glowing lights covering trees as far as the eyes can see is quite otherworldly. They have their arms intertwined, and though Matt still holding his cane, he's not actively using it, prefering to allow Karen to guide them.

She doesn't need to ask what he's talking about.

"Honestly, I think it was just a coincidence," Karen replies, moving out of the way to avoid colliding with a running child. The Gardens are buzzing with activity.

"Thank goodness," Matt comments.

"However," she interrupts, biting her lip, "I do believe they were just waiting for an opening to breach the subject with you."

Matt sighs, but doesn't look particularly surprised by her response. "Yeah, I figured."

They walk for a few minutes in silence. A few steps ahead of them, the Nelsons stroll happily through the colorfully lit passageways. The kids point at their favorite shapes in the bushes and the adults talk merrily. Foggy and Candace seem to have worked out whatever strain had been between them during the car trip, and now are joking and teasing each other normally.

Karen takes a deep breath, steeling herself.

"I know what you're going to ask," Matt cuts her off, before she even has opened her mouth to speak. _Your breathing changes when you're about to say something_ , he had told her, so many months ago. "I know you mean well. But I can't– I can't do this here. Now."

She nods, silently.

His shoulders sag in relief. "Thanks, Karen."

"Can I ask you something else, though?" She says, trying to smooth the grim look on his face. "Does _any_ of this do anything for you at all?"

Matt frowns. "What do you mean?"

Karen gestures around at the LED lights everywhere. "All these light bulbs buzzing with electricity. How do they look like to you?" And yeah, she's trying to distract him, sure. But she's also truly curious.

Matt pauses for a bit, trying to find words. He smiles a little as he does so, like she has posed an interesting question and he's enjoying the challenge of trying to figure out how to answer.

In moments like these, Karen really appreciates just how much Matt really kept to himself. It's not only the big things that he can't generally talk about with people – like being able fight or being able to hear heartbeats. It's the small things too. It's the things he can smell that no one else can, the sounds he can hear that people don't even know are there, the things he tastes that the English language doesn't have a name for.

Matt's constantly living in a world on fire, but he can never talk about how it burns.

Karen decides that she'll make a point of asking him more often about this kind of thing.

"It's...warm," he begins, a thoughtful expression on his face. "People say that LEDs don't give off heat, but that's not true. It's just that they're designed so that heat dissipates more efficiently. So it's like–like a constant flow of warmth building up and fading away. You mentioned electricity buzzing, and yeah, I can hear that. But that's not the only thing I hear. There are insects crawling over the bushes and on the ground and small rodents hiding up in the trees. The scents of the city are still present, but they've been muffled down somewhat by the smell of bark and leaves, and when the wind blows in the right direction, I can taste earth mixed with the sea and soot."

Karen chuckles, gazing wondering at her friend. "That must feel...weird," she comments, imagining swallowing a mouthful of soot.

"It's quite wonderful actually," Matt replies, and his attention seems to be far away. "I can smell your perfume and the shampoo you used and the strawberry ice cream your had for dessert and your skin. I love the way it all gets tangled up with Foggy's smells – his aftershave, his hand soap, the beer he drank his afternoon – because of how it means we're spending a lot of time in each other's company. I love how the Nelsons' heartbeats are familiar and easy to listen to, and how I could pinpoint each of their locations, even if they all were in completely different sides of the gardens.

"That–that does sound wonderful," she admits, grinning at him. "And–and all about all the people around us, all the children shouting and screaming? Doesn't that, like, bother you?"

Matt purses his lips, considering her question. "Not really. I'm used to filtering out distracting smells and noises. Living in New York, it's impossible _not_ to learn how to deal with it. And...And everyone here is happy, relaxed. People aren't screaming out in pain or anger. The adrenalin I taste isn't due to people feeling threatened, it's just– it's kids feeling excited by the things they're discovering, it's a couple finally kissing for the first time, it's– it's one friend telling the other things he thought he'd never be able to share."

Karen only realizes she's crying because the path in front of suddenly becomes blurry.

"Hey," Foggy says. She hadn't even noticed him falling back in step with them. "Did Matt make you cry? Should I kick his ass for you?" He asks, but she can tell he's only teasing.

Karen laughs, wiping the tears away. "No, no," she reassures him. "He–uh. He just told me something beautiful," she reveals, causing Matt to flush between them.

Foggy whistles, intertwining his arm with Matt's on the blind man's other side. "Damn, Murdock. Now I kind of wish you'd whisper sweet-nothings to me too," he nudges suggestively.

Matt and Karen laugh openly at that. He opens his mouth to reply when Karen's phone start buzzing.

"I guess now it's your chance," she comments, raising her eyebrows meaningfully at the pair of them, before answering her phone. "Hello?" Karen distractedly says into the handset.

"Hey," a gruff, familiar voice replies on the other end. "Is this a bad time?"

Karen freezes where she stands. Besides her, Foggy eyes her curiously and Matt frowns.

For a moment, she can't find her words.

"Karen?" Frank Castle asks. And if she wasn't so stunned, she would have smiled at the nervousness in his voice. "Shit. Just. Forget it–"

"No, no, no," she quickly interjects. "Don't you dare hang up on me, Frank."

Karen hears cursing, and turns to Foggy, who's looking at her like she's grown two heads.

"Please tell me you don't mean Frank-freaking-Castle," he implores. "Please tell me the Punisher doesn't have your number on speed-dial. Fuck. Wasn't he, like, dead?"

"Let's give Karen a moment," Matt interrupts, letting go of Karen and pulling Foggy away with him.

"But–" Foggy tries to argue.

"She knows what she's doing, Fog," he replies, and his voice isn't exactly sharp, but it does have an edge to it. "Let's go wait for her on that bench over there, alright?"

Gratefully, Karen nods at him. Matt smiles in return. He's tense, and it's clear he isn't precisely comfortable with the idea of she and Castle being on speaking terms, but the fact that he trusts her to deal with it as she sees fit warms her heart.

"Was that Red I just heard?" Frank asks and Karen jumps a little, having momentarily forgotten he was on the line.

"Uh–Yes," she answers. "We're–we're spending the holidays at Foggy's parents'."

"Fancy," the ex-marine comments. "And the choirboy is enjoying being back from the dead, or what?"

That surprises a laugh out of Karen. It's strange – and kind of disconcerting – to think that Frank's known about Matt for even longer than she has.

"Yeah. Hum. In the beginning he enjoyed it as much as you did, you know. With the murderous need for vengeance and the slight suicidal tendencies. But he's–uh. Getting there," she says.

"That bad, uh?" Frank retorts, smirk clear in his voice.

Karen chuckles, and decides to steer the conversation away from Matt, who's undoubtedly listening in. "It's. Uh. It's been a while since you called."

Frank audibly clicks his tongue. "Yeah, sorry. I was dealing with some shit."

"Everything sorted out?" She asks, not holding out much hope. It's Frank, after all.

He hums noncommittally. "Anyways, just wanted to call to see how you're doing and– Uh. To wish you happy holidays," he mumbles hurriedly, like he's embarrassed at being caught saying such soft words.

A wide smile forms on Karen's lips. "That's–that's really thoughtful of you, Frank. Thank you."

"Nah, don't mention it," he returns. And she can almost see the accompanying half-shrug. "Anyhow, I got to go now–"

From the other side of the line, Karen can hear laughter and a child speaking. She can't make out any words, but an idea suddenly springs forth in her mind.

"Frank Castle," she begins, and she can't help the warm, teasing tone in her voice, "are you spending Christmas Eve at the Liebermans'?"

The way Frank sputters to answer is just as rewarding as the way Matt's eyebrows rise almost to his hairline in shock, from his place by Foggy's side, a few yards away.


	7. Maybe I can stop making the same mistake

**Chapter 7: I can't change the past, but maybe I can stop making the same mistake**

* * *

The night is warm, but not unpleasantly so. Every few minutes the breeze coming from the sea will bring the scant smell of fish and the lingering taste of boat oil.

As they walk through the neighborhood, Matt picks up on pieces of conversations and toasts. The smell of turkey comes from at least 15 households, only in that street, and it would have left Matt's mouth watering, if he hadn't overindulged himself with Anna's cooking merely an hour before.

Dinner had been a merry, comfortable occasion. Conversation was light – no difficult or polemic topics were broached. Candace had gotten over whatever problem she had with Matt, and was treating him as warmly as any of the other Nelsons.

At the table, Oli would sometimes open her mouth before snapping it shut, glancing guiltily in Matt's direction, but she never let anything slip, for which Matt was grateful. He knew that one day, when she was older, the oversimplified explanation he and Foggy fed her about Matt's abilities wouldn't be enough, and she'd start asking more complex – dangerous – questions. But Matt can't do anything about it now, so he lets it go.

Somewhere in the highest branch of a tree, a cat meows, turning Matt's attention back to the situation at hand.

They're strolling unhurriedly in direction of Christ the King Catholic Church. It's still relatively early, but Theo wanted to watch the carols, so they had finished up with dinner and departed. When they left, Olivia had been yawning non-stop, while still insisting that she wasn't sleepy and wanted to go to mass with them, Ruth couldn't keep her eyes open long enough to finish dessert, and Colin was already fast asleep on his mother's lap.

Leading the way, Edward and Karen are in an animated debate over the newest diplomacy scandal, while Foggy and Theo follow a few steps behind, talking about some TV show Matt's never heard about. Matt and Anna bring up the rear, marching conspicuously slower than the others.

Matt knows it's only a matter of time before Foggy's mom says what she wants to say, so he allows her to draw him away from the group without complaint.

He picks up on the increase of Foggy's heartbeat, which signals that he's realized what Anna's up to, but he's too far ahead for his friend to be able to do anything for him at that point.

To Matt's surprise, Anna remains silent for a long moment, keeping her head facing forwards and her posture outwardly relaxed. She doesn't give him any sign that she plans on speaking any time soon.

Matt sighs, exhausted, and decides to throw caution up in the air.

"Listen, Anna," he begins, not knowing exactly where this is going. "In light of recent events, I–uh. I wanted to thank you for everything you and your family have done for me over the years. You didn't have to take me in the way you did, but you chose to, anyways, and I'm really grateful for that." He pauses, swallowing dry. Besides him, her face is tilted up, listening attentively. "After–after my dad died, Christmas lost some of its appeal to me," he admits. "I'd still take part in the religious ceremonies involved, but apart from that I hadn't really celebrated it until Foggy invited me over for the holidays the year we met. I–I remember thinking, that first night, sleeping in the bunk in Foggy and Theo's room, 'so this is what it feels like, to belong somewhere'. I–I know I haven't been very present the past few years, but that has nothing to do with you. I've always felt welcomed by your family."

Anna sniffs quietly, and Matt can taste her tears in the air. "You were so hesitant back then," she says, at last, wiping at her eyes. "You'd never ask for anything, never complain – not even when my sisters-in-law shot obnoxious comments your way. You were perfectly polite the whole time. The easiest guest to please. I remember that we had to insist at least twice before you'd accept a second helping of pudding." She smiles sadly at him. "We almost didn't give you your gift, you know. We weren't sure you'd accept. It wasn't anything special, just some–"

"–linen made with natural fabric," Matt completes, throat closing up. "I remember. You–uh. You realized I was having trouble sleeping in the sheets I'd borrowed from Foggy, so you bought new ones in the last minute. To this date I still don't know how you and Ed managed to find a store open that late in the Christmas holidays," he tries to joke.

Anna chuckles softly, before continuing. "Over the years, we managed to make you more comfortable around us. Franklin was a big part of it, of course – he's always been good with people, every since he was a boy. He'd make friends anywhere he went, no matter how unlikely the circumstances."

Matt nods. He's always known that as much as Foggy jokes about Matt's abilities to impress girls, it's actually Foggy who's good at building relationships. Matt can charm someone into getting close, but it's Foggy who makes them want to stay.

"But somehow," Anna is saying, not quite having reached her point, "even with the vast network of colleagues and friends he built over the years, Franklin was still lonely. He still doubted his potential and his capacity to succeed. He still feared not being liked and accepted."

Matt frowns at that. He knew Foggy had a few self-esteem issues, back in college, but he never thought–

"And then he met you," she goes on. "And you both just seemed to click, you know? You brought out the best in each other. He was able to get you to open up and laugh more. He managed to make you feel comfortable in asking for certain things, and saying what you thought." She pauses, choosing her words carefully. "I like to think that he showed you it was okay to care." At that, Anna reaches down to squeeze Matt's hand.

"Foggy's–" Matt tries to say, but he finds himself too choked up. "He's done a lot for me. More than anyone else," he manages to voice.

Anna nods. "You did a lot for him too," she estates calmly, much to Matt's surprise. "I remember how you'd push him to do better, to try harder and not be afraid of failing. Franklin wouldn't have graduated top of his class if it hadn't been for you. Even after you left college, you kept pushing him to do better, to do the right thing. I know he complained about it, but deep down he's always appreciated you for it."

Matt frowns. "He'd have done just as well by himself," he contradicts. "He's an excellent lawyer on his own merits, he's never needed me."

"I disagree," Anna replies. "I believe you changed his life for the better. I believe he wouldn't be the man he is today if he hadn't met you."

Matt opens his mouth to argue, but Anna beats him to it.

"The reason I'm telling you all of this," she explains, "is so that you understand why we reacted the way we did when things between you two got strained. It's true that there's been some – well – _tension_ in the family regarding you rekindling your law firm and friendship. But I want you to know that it's not because we don't approve of it, or that we think Franklin's better off without you."

"I–" Matt starts to deny, but cuts himself off. It's no use trying to pretend with her, not now.

Anna keeps going as if he hasn't spoken. "What I fear is that you'll make the same mistake again," she tells him, without mincing words. "The Castle case put your and Franklin's career – and even your lives – in jeopardy. It was the moment you were supposed to work together, but instead you left him do deal with everything by himself."

She stops, turning to face him fully. Matt only now realizes they've reached the entrance of the church. The others are already inside, looking for seats.

"Franklin was disappointed and frustrated that he lost Castle's case," Anna reveals, "but he was more disappointed that you weren't with him as it happened."

Matt wishes that was the only time he disappointed his best friend. At that point, that particular offense was a minor one, in the grand scheme of things.

Helplessly, Matt asks himself: would Anna be telling him all of this if she knew how dangerous and toxic Matt really was?

He doesn't believe so.

They stand there in silence for a minute. Matt desperately searches for something to say – for a way to make Anna understand that despite Matt's best intentions, he can't help but hurt the people closest to him.

"I'm–I never wanted to hurt Foggy like that," he confesses, turning his head away. "But I'm scared to death that I will inadvertently do so again."

To his shock, Anna isn't angry at his admission. Instead, she gently places a warm, wrinkled hand on his cheek, in a comforting gesture.

"And that's how I know that you won't, dear."

* * *

"Man, I'm knackered," Foggy comments around a yawn, falling face-down into his pillow, as soon as they reach their room. "I almost nodded off when everyone lined up for Communion. I feel like I need to sleep for a week."

Matt chuckles softly, closing the door to their room and letting go of the pretense to need his cane.

"Don't forget that in a few hours the kids will be pounding on our doors," Matt replies, putting his glasses on the bedside table and kicking off his shoes.

Foggy lets out a long whine. "Oh, god why," he complains. "I hate Christmas mornings."

Matt grins at his friend's antics, slipping out of his silk button-up in exchange for the comfortable undershirt he wears to sleep.

"You love Christmas mornings," he contradicts, throwing Foggy's pajamas on top of his fallen form. "Now get ready for bed before you fall asleep in your trousers," he prompts.

"Yes, _Mom_ ," Foggy childishly returns, but does get up.

As they brush their teeth side by side in front of the bathroom sink – because 'it's faster this way, and besides, it's not like we'll compete to get the best shot at the mirror, buddy' – Foggy shifts on his feet uncomfortably, tipping Matt off that he wants to say something, but doesn't know exactly where to begin.

"Say what you need to say," Matt tells him, bumping their shoulders lightly after he's rinsed his mouth. "I promise I won't be mad if you tell me you didn't buy me a Christmas present," he teases, stepping out of the room and finding his way onto his bed.

Foggy snorts, dropping bodily on the other bed. "You just want me to say that so you won't look bad tomorrow morning, when you show up empty-handed to the gift exchange."

Matt throws a sock in his face.

"Uh. Gross!" Foggy complains, flinging it back in Matt's direction. He easily catches the garb and drops it on to the floor.

"It's one of yours, actually," Matt comments.

"Damn, it's only the second night and our stuff is already getting mixed up," Foggy says, laying an arm over his face dramatically. "It really _is_ just like college."

"Nah," Matt replies easily, getting comfortable in the sheets. It's not the 1000-thread count he uses at home, but it's almost as good. "We'd have to be way less sober for that."

"You can say that again. Gosh." And Matt can hear Foggy's tired muscles flexing and his joints cracking. "I wish we'd just stayed home. We could have gotten shit-faced at Josie's and avoided this whole mess."

"Yeah," Matt chuckles, but it comes out strained and artificial.

"But then again," Foggy continues, "there were some pretty interesting developments these holidays, if you ask me."

"If you–uh. If you want to call them that," Matt says, noncommittally.

Foggy waves a hand, placing the other under his head, as he faces the ceiling. "I mean, sure. My niece proving once and for all that she definitely inherited your reckless streak and me and my sister publicly feuding over my life choices weren't exactly the highlights of the day. But it could have been worse."

"Oli and I aren't even related. How could she inherit anything from me?" Matt argues, just for the sake of it. "And I'm pretty sure that exchanging a few angry remarks on the porch doesn't qualify as a public feud."

"You know what I mean, Murdock," Foggy shoots back. "Now let me continue with the day's recap."

Matt snorts. "The floor is yours, Counselor."

"So, anyways," Foggy goes on. "Near-fatal incidents and fraternal squabbles aside, I had a lot of fun the rest of the day."

"Except when Karen wished Frank merry Christmas," Matt corrects.

"Except when Karen wished Frank-fucking-Castle merry Christmas," Foggy agrees, running a hand through his hair. "I swear to you, the company you two keep..."

"You're one to talk," Matt retorts. "Karen told me she caught you sending an emoji-filled text message to a certain alcoholic private investigator."

Foggy throws his arms up in the air. "Slander!" He loudly clears his throat. "And even it was true, it's good to keep your options open. You never know when you'll need Jones' skillset."

"Hopefully, never again," Matt mutters.

"But knowing you, probably sooner than I'd like," Foggy quips back.

They laugh, before falling silent.

"My mom–" Foggy stammers out after a few minutes. "I hope she didn't give you too much crap about the whole addiction story," he rubs at his forehead, sounding embarrassed. "I told her not to bother you about it. I know how much you hate–"

"No, no," Matt interrupts, thinking back to Anna's sweet words. "She was–She didn't mention it at all."

"Oh. Good," Foggy replies, surprised. "Then what did you…?" He trails off, uncertain.

Matt sighs. "She basically told me she thinks we're good to each other, and that she's pleased we're back in speaking terms," he reveals, guilt tasting like ashes on his tongue.

Foggy whistles. "Nice one, mom," he comments, sounding appreciative. Then, he turns in his bed, and Matt can clearly imagine the raised eyebrow that accompanies his friends next words. "But you were sure to tell her that I'm not dumping Marci to shackle up with you, right? I don't want her to get her hopes up."

Matt laughs, amused despite himself. "Um. Let me see. I think I _might_ have given her the impression that you, Karen and I are getting up to interesting afterhours activities back in the office," he teases.

"Darn," Foggy fists the air the mock-regret. "I knew I shouldn't have invited the both of you to spend Christmas at my parents'. Marci did tell me people would get all the wrong ideas," he jokes.

"Yeah, well. Maybe you shouldn't have," Matt replies, and he tries to make it sound like a joke, but he's too exhausted to keep pretending everything is fine, so he doesn't put enough effort into it.

The skip in Foggy's heartbeat is as loud as a thunder in Matt's ear.

"What?" Foggy quickly says. "No, man. I was just kidding. Of course I don't regret bringing you and Karen over."

"Yeah, I know," Matt returns, just as quickly. "Just–uh. Forget about it. Let's–let's go to sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day." He reaches out with his hand to flick off the light switch between their beds, but Foggy bats his fingers away.

"Not okay, buddy," Foggy interrupts firmly. "Don't go all silent and stoic on me now." He pauses, biting the inside of his cheek. "Tell me what's eating at you?" He asks, gently.

Matt's first instinct is to deny everything and close himself off. That's _precisely_ what he's been trying to avoid. Making people worry, making people feel like it's their obligation to help. Matt's done with pulling others down with him because of his incapacity to suck it up and _deal with it_ by himself. But now here he is, drawing Foggy in again.

An idea strikes Matt, causing him to pause before snapping that 'there's nothing wrong, Foggy, can you please let it go?'

Maybe that was the problem all along, he muses. Maybe if Matt's honest enough, Foggy will realize he's walking into a trap – that he's walked into a trap a long time ago. Matt tried letting him go before, but he didn't manage to stick with his decision. But Foggy's not as weak as Matt. He'd be able to pull if off, if he really wanted to.

Matt just has to makes sure he wants to.

"I–I know you're still angry with me, about the stuff I've put you through," Matt begins, and senses Foggy's surprise at his forthcomingness. "I know that no matter how many times I apologize, it'll never make it up for all the lies that I told and the danger I constantly put you through, by your mere continuous association with me. I know we're trying to patch things up, and that you're making an effort not to snap when you get frustrated at me, or when we disagree–"

Foggy nods. "Yeah. And _I_ know," he interrupts, "that you're working on being more open about yourself with me and Karen. I realize you're making an effort too. I don't expect everything to go back to the way it used to be. I know these things take time and that there will be bumps along the road."

"Right," Matt agrees. "Of course. The thing is, Foggy." He pauses, taking a deep breath. "The thing is–I can't promise you I won't do the things that hurt you again. I can't promise you that between the right choice and the smart one, I'll take the one that gets me home alive, not when–not when there are lives at stake."

"So you're saying you'd rather be Daredevil and punch bad guys in alleys than be Matt Murdock and keep being friends?" Foggy demands, frustration clear in the inflection of every word. "Shit, man. Just make up your mind already."

Foggy still doesn't understand. But it's not like Matt can blame him: he himself is just beginning to realize it too.

 _I'd rather die as the devil, than live as Matt Murdock_ , he had once said.

"There is–there is no distinction," Matt tries to explain. "I thought there was. In the beginning I thought I could keep my two lives apart, and then I figured it wasn't working out because I had to choose one over the other."

"And now?" Foggy prompts.

"Now I understand that I could break ties with everyone I've ever loved – I could renounce my life as Matt Murdock and live only in the shadows as Daredevil – and still I'd care. Still I'd look for conexions. Still I'd worry about people like and you and Karen."

"Good," Foggy says with an emphatic nod. "High time you–"

"But I also understand," Matt interjects, desperation creeping into his voice despite his best efforts, "and that's what I wish you'd understand too," he adds, a tad more quiet, "that I could hang up the armor, I–I could stop training and stop fighting. I could muffle my ears at night, as so not to hear the pleas for help. And still–and still that wouldn't stop the devil from trying to claw out of me."

"Matt..." Foggy begins, and there is a tentativeness in his tone that hadn't been there before. "Matt, you do realize the devil's just a metaphor, right? For you anger and your need to make things right." He chuckles, but the sound is anything but happy. "You're taking the whole 'Devil of Hell's Kitchen' imagery a step too far. We're not in hell, Matty, and you're not the devil. The devil doesn't exist."

 _But what if he does, Foggy?_ Matt wants to ask, but doesn't dare to.

Instead, he says: "That doesn't change the fact that Daredevil is a part of me, just as much as Matt Murdock. I can't be one without also being the other." Matt has to stop and steel himself for what he has to say next. "You can't have one without also having to put up with the other, Foggy."

Daredevil is much more than the part of Matt that enjoys beating up people or that can feel satisfaction at the sound of criminal's bones breaking.

Daredevil is the part of him Matt allows himself to take pleasure in selfish, dangerous things. Like walking Karen home in the rain, and being able to hear each and every drop that makes contact with her skin; or lying down next to Foggy, and being able to drown himself in his friend's familiar smell until he's lulled into sleep.

Daredevil is the part of Matt Murdock that recognizes all of these things, and still wants to cling on to the people he'll hurt.

"Shit, man," Foggy finally says, after a long moment. His heart's beating fast, and he's sweating, but he doesn't appear particularly put out by Matt's admission. "Way to give a guy an ultimatum, huh?"

Matt doesn't react to the attempted joke.

"Listen, Matt," Foggy picks up, serious now. "I don't know what you want me to tell you here, okay? Do I like that you put on a costume and go out to creep up on rooftops at night? Of course not! Do I like that your idea of volunteer work is to risk your freedom and your life in a daily basis? I'm not particularly in love with the idea, no."

"Then tell me to leave!" Matt finally snaps. Voice sharp and hot with anger and fear. "Tell me you can't do it anymore. Tell me it was a mistake for me to come here and get entangled with your family again."

Foggy tsks. "Can't do it, Matty," he replies calmly, as if Matt hadn't just unreasonably shouted at him.

"Why not?" And when Matt asks, his voice is small. All the fight has left him, and all that remains is numbing exhaustion.

"Because, buddy," Foggy says slowly, willing his friend to understand, "you're my best friend and I love you. And nothing you say or do is going to change that. Got it?" Matt's expression must show his skepticism, because Foggy forges on. "You could have run off for good with your murderous, ninja girlfriend, and I'd still love you – I'd be mad as hell, don't get me wrong, but you'd still be my best bud." He tries to pull at his hair, but the strands are too short. "Fuck man, you could have freaking killed Fisk, and it wouldn't have changed shit."

"It would have changed _everything_ ," Matt can't help but contradict.

"For you, yeah!" Foggy snarls at last. "That's why I was against it. Not because I wanted to save that bald asshole, but because I wanted to save you!"

Matt can't say anything in response to that.

Foggy rubs at his eyes with worrying force. "Let's–let's sleep it off. Tomorrow–"

"I'm going to disappoint you, in the end," Matt interrupts with a dark promise. "I'm going to disappoint you, and you'll leave."

Again.

Foggy makes a frustrated noise. "I'll come back, alright?" He snaps, without thinking. "If you do or say something to make me leave, I'll–I'll come back. I did before, I can do it again."

He pauses. And it must be wishful thinking on Matt's part, but Foggy sounds as relieved at having taken the words off his chest as Matt feels at hearing the truth in them.

"You told me how your dad used to say that the Murdocks take a lot of hits, but they always get back up, right?" Foggy continues, without waiting for a reply. "Well, the Nelsons sometimes leave shouting and screaming, but we always go back to the people who matter to us."

When Matt licks his lips, he can taste the the mixture of his and Foggy's tears in the air.

"And Matty, you damn well matter to me."


	8. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

* * *

"Okay, so the mouse's hovering over the call button," Foggy is saying. He's standing behind Matt's chair, arm brushing against Matt's shoulder as he works on the computer. "Just press it when you're ready. If you have any problems just shout and I'll come and rescue you," he teases, heading to the office door.

"I will, thanks Fog," Matt replies.

"No problem, buddy."

He waits until he hears Foggy's steps fading, as he walks down the corridor towards the others. Karen and the Nelsons are gathered in the living room, with the adults having late breakfast while the kids play with their new toys.

After everyone opened their gifts and thanks and well-wishes were exchanged between all involved, Matt and Foggy had discreetly retreated into the office, where the family computer is kept. Matt had been reluctant to do so, but Foggy had insisted.

So now there he is, waiting as Skype's ringtone sounds once, twice, before the person on the other side of the line accepts the call.

 _Merry Christmas, Matthew_ , Sister Maggie's voice comes out of the speakers.

"Merry Christmas, Sister," Matt manages to stammer out. "It's good to talk to you," he tries, awkwardly. It's strange to hear a person's voice disembodied like that, without the accompanying heartbeat or the unique smell of their skin.

Matt can hear the smile on her voice. _It's good to talk to you too_ , she returns, moderately less awkward. _But I must say I was surprised to get your message this morning_.

"Yeah. That was actually Foggy," he explains, embarrassed. "He stole my phone and found your number in it. And then proceeded to set all of this up. I was kind of surprised to discover that you guys have a computer with working internet – and a Skype account in it, nonetheless."

 _I live in a church-sponsored orphanage, Matthew. Not under a rock_ , Maggie softly chides, causing Matt to laugh.

"And how is everything, over there?" Matt asks.

He can faintly hear children laughing in the background, likely in the next room from where Maggie is.

 _Very well_ , she replies. _We received a good number of donations, and managed to arrange that every child got a small gift. Sister Cecilia and Sister Theresa are setting up quite the feast for lunch_.

That makes Matt smile. "That's good."

 _How are celebrations at the Nelsons'?_ Sister Maggie inquires.

"They're–They're wonderful, really," Matt admits, glad that she can't see him flushing. "Everyone's really welcoming. Foggy and his family even accompanied me to a local church last night."

Matt can clearly imagine the approving nod Maggie would be shooting his way, had they been speaking in person. _I'm glad, Matthew. I'm glad that you are letting people into your life again_. She pauses for a moment, and Matt wishes he could at least hear her breathing in more detail, to get a hint of what's going through her mind. _Father Lantom was missed_ , she finally says. _This was the first Midnight Mass in many years that wasn't celebrated by him. No one delivers a Homily quite the way Paul did_.

Tears prickle at the back of his eyes, but Matt's smiling at the memories the mention of the priest brings forth.

He opens his mouth to say something, when approaching light thuds catch his attention. Before Matt has a chance to do anything, Ruthie is throwing the door to the office open, barging inside.

"I found him, I found him!" She calls over her shoulder. "What are you doing, Matt?" The girl asks, peering curiously at him.

 _I'm guessing this in one of the Nelsons' children?_ Maggie's voice comes through the speakers, surprising Ruth.

"Yes! I'm Ruthie," she replies, before Matt can answer. "And who are you?"

 _Hello Ruthie, I'm Sister Maggie_ , the nun says, perfectly composed.

"You're Matt's sister?" Ruth demands, bewildered.

Matt sighs, and gives up trying to keep the conversation between him and his long lost mother a private affair.

As Maggie begins to explain that she's actually a nun, Olivia and Colin come into the room too.

"There you are Matt!" Colin exclaims. "We've been looking everywhere for you."

"What are you doing?" Olivia asks, stepping over to Matt's other side.

"Matt's calling a nun called Maggie," Ruthie importantly clarifies. "She's in New York."

"A nun?" Colin asks. And as Ruth begins a long winded clarification, Olivia redirects her attention to the computer screen.

"Uh. Sister Maggie?" Oli cautiously inquires.

 _Yes? To whom I'm speaking now?_

"This is Olivia, I'm Ruthie's older sister. Colin is here too," she introduces.

"Hello!" Colin butts in.

"Anyways," the oldest continues. "I was wondering if you wouldn't like to turn the cameras on? I mean, so you can see Matt while you speak to him."

"Yeah!" Ruthie excitedly agrees. "And we can see you and describe it to Matt."

Matt presses the bridge of his nose. "Honestly, kids, there is no need–"

 _I'd actually like that very much_ , Maggie interjects. _I'll turn on my camera here and you do the same over there, alright, Olivia?_

A few seconds later, the kids let out a happy squeal, which Matt supposes indicates that he is now a blind man video-chatting a nun.

"Okay, Matt," Colin's saying, "she's wearing a strange black-and-white hat that covers all of her head–"

"Children!" Anna shouts from the door frame. "Stop pestering Matt."

"We're not pestering Matt," Ruth reasonably replies, "we're talking with Sister Maggie. Come and say hi, Grandma!"

Curious despite herself, Anna walks into the room. Matt knows the second she realizes who Maggie really is by her sudden intake of breath.

"This is our grandman," Oli explains to the camera.

"It's pleasure to meet you, Sister. My name is Anna Nelson," she says, and Matt is more than a little surprised at the coldness in the woman's voice. "I've heard a lot about you, the last few days." He feels Foggy's mom place a protective hand on his shoulder, and wonders if Maggie can see that on the camera.

 _Matthew's told me a lot about you too, Mrs. Nelson_ , the nun replies. And Matt can only guess at the look on her face. _I'm to understand that I have you and your family to thank, for welcoming Matthew so warmly in your home_.

Instantly, Anna's demeanor changes, her shoulders lose most of their tension, and when she speaks her tone is almost friendly. _Call me Anna, please. And it is no trouble at all. It's always a pleasure to have Matt over for the holidays_.

As the kids start a new round of questions for Maggie, Karen and Foggy appear at the doorway.

"Sorry man," Foggy apologizes, entering the room. "We got distracted and–"

"–this happened," Karen completes, gesturing at the small crowd now leaning around Matt, towards the computer screen. Which he can't even see.

 _Is that Ms. Page's voice I hear?_ Maggie asks.

"Oh, yes," Karen replies, walking to stand behind Matt. "Hello there, Sister Maggie."

Foggy's just a step behind Karen.

"Hey Sister," he greets. "I don't know if you remember me, but I'm–"

 _Franklin Nelson_ , the nun interrupts. _How could I forget? Matthew was just talking about you_.

Foggy gives Matt a playful shove. "I just hope he doesn't call me 'Franklin' when he does so," he says, pretending to shiver in horror.

Anna slaps at her son. "Franklin is a perfectly good name–"

"Guys," Edward calls, turning up at the door frame. He's the first person who doesn't immediately barge into the room, which Matt appreciates, even if it's little too late now. "Why don't we leave Matt to finish his call in peace?" He prompts, sounding expectant. "Don't you think we've embarrassed him enough for one morning?"

Sheepishly, everyone starts to move.

"Actually," Matt finds himself saying, stopping them on their tracks – much to his own surprise. "I don't mind if you stay for a bit. If that's alright with you, Sister?"

 _I'd love to chat with your family, Matthew_ , Maggie replies. And Matt might be more than one thousand miles away, but the smile on her voice is as clear as day. He'd know. His grinning like mad, too.

"Awesome!" Foggy quips. "Now just allow me to call Candy and Theo over – they're not going to want to miss this for the world."

 _The end._

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! If you spotted any mistakes please let me know ;)


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